


The Three-Ringed Path

by edencomplex



Series: Paradigm Shift [3]
Category: D.Gray-man
Genre: Because no one wants to know about the 10 years of suffering everyone else went through, Established Relationship, How to Propose When You've Only Got 3 Days to Do It, M/M, Reever Wenham is a gift and a legend and the Order doesn't deserve him, just waiting for them to get together
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-14
Updated: 2016-06-12
Packaged: 2018-05-20 02:53:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 58,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5989525
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/edencomplex/pseuds/edencomplex
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The best things come in threes. This includes the number of days a full moon is visible, how many chances you get to propose to your on again/off again not-boyfriend and the number of times the Black Order will have been destroyed by next Sunday.</p><div class="center">
  <p><img/><br/>[Written for the <a href="http://askbak.tumblr.com">askbak</a> blog.]  </p>
  <p>Illustrated by the wonderful <a href="http://wasongo.tumblr.com">wasongo</a>. </p>
</div>
            </blockquote>





	1. Backfiring

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first ring.

It was a terrible plan.

It was an awful, poorly executed _excuse_ for a plan, Reever Wenhamm thought viciously as he wobbled to his feet and stared at what remained of the Western Wing’s outer wall. He could see so much more sky through it than he ought to.

A chill autumn wind buffeted his lab coat. Reever turned his head.

There were voices in the distance, anxious murmurs and whispers as personnel started descending from the staircases in cautious, tight-knit groups, crowding around those that had been pushed to the ground like Reever and were only just starting to wave the clouds of dust aside and sit up amongst the rubble.

“It sounded like something just _exploded_.”

“Are we under attack?”

“We’ve only been here _two months_ , I swear if the Science Department is conducting weird experiments again, I’m going to …”

“Hey! Someone get in touch with Medical, I think I see blood!”  

Reever ran his hand back through hair that felt undoubtedly _singed_ and did his best not to scream. He was very proud of himself for succeeding.

He should have asked the Chief to give him a copy of this plan in writing instead of letting him do it off the cuff, he thought exasperatedly.

Maybe then he could have nipped this whole display in the bud before it had even taken off and HQ wouldn’t be sporting a new _skylight_.

“Section Chief!” a shaky voice called out, and Reever turned around in alarm as Johnny Gill extricated himself from behind a pane of sheet iron, spider-like cracks framing his thick glasses. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Reever said shortly, and held his hand out to help Johnny get a leg up over the raised fissures in the tiled flooring. Oh, Assistant Chief Fey was going to have a _fit_.

“Are you hurt? Where are the others?”

Johnny shook his head. “I don’t know,” he whispered, sounding wretched. “I mean I heard a pop and then there was a flash of light so something _definitely_ broke, but now I can’t see Chief Komui _anywhere_!”

Reever grimaced.

Hindsight, he thought bitterly, was a real pain in the ass.

 

* * *

 

**3 days ago…**

“Favourite colour?” Lenalee asked, a pencil poised over what Reever recognized as a page in an old edition of the Order’s community newspaper as he nudged the office door open with his foot and carefully eased himself into the room so as to not drop important unsealed documents all over the floor.

“Black!” Komui said triumphantly, and then almost immediately sat back in his chair as though another thought had just occurred to him in that exact moment.

“Except black is, realistically, an absence of colour so I’m not really sure if that counts but … well, he thinks it’s slimming and professional? Ah, but he looks really nice in blue too. Blue brings out his eyes …” he trailed off, muttering to himself, before his eyes landed on Reever.

“Section Chief Reever!” he exclaimed, and Reever suddenly felt the urge to turn tail and slam the door shut behind him. “Excellent timing. You’ve got a good brain between those ears. _Is_ black a colour?”

“We’re not debating this so don’t even try it,” Reever told him flatly, dumping the paperwork he had been carrying on Komui’s desk with a ‘thump’ loud enough to make the solid wood shake.

“Hmph,” Komui scoffed, and pursed his lips together before turning back towards his sister with an enthusiasm that was a little worrying. Reever tried to ignore it. “Fine. Forget about colours then. People change their favourite colours every week. Next question!”

Lenalee made a little scribble on the page, trailing her fingers down the printed text. Reever craned his neck to get a closer look at what had both siblings so invested.

“Hmm,” Lenalee murmured thoughtfully, tapping the pencil against her chin as she leaned back against the couch. “How about … favourite food?”

“Anything that isn’t tied down,” Komui replied instantly, in the sort of tone that suggested he felt he was _acing_ these questions with flying colours.

Lenalee made a face. “ _Brother_!” she admonished.

Komui frowned back at her. “What?” he demanded, looking wounded, “You told me to be honest!”

Lenalee glared at him, and Reever watched with interest as Komui slowly folded in on himself, looking a little contrite, which was more than what the rest of them could manage to get out of him, that was for sure.

“Sweets,” he finally muttered, twiddling his fingers together and looking away from his sister’s accusing gaze. “He likes … sweet things. You know, cakes, pastries, parfaits … the lot.” He seemed to shudder a little at that, as though the idea of putting so much sugar into his body was a particularly nauseous one.

“That’s good!” Lenalee said encouragingly, and drew another shape across the page in her lap before holding it up in front of her. “I think we’re done!”

Komui perked up at that, leaning forward hopefully.

Curiosity finally got the better of Reever and he moved around the back of the couch to peer over Lenalee’s shoulder. He noted the circles that scattered the pages and was reminded somewhat of a multiple choice quiz.

“A _compatibility test_?” he repeated, looking doubtfully at the bold, cheery words stamped across the top.

“It’s supposed to be really accurate,” Lenalee said somewhat absently, adding up the points on her fingers. “Gracia down in Communications swears by it. Said she wouldn’t have met her husband if she hadn’t had this with her at the time.”

“It’s a pretty simple algorithm,” Komui added with an aggravating smile as he propped his chin in his hand, “Not much room for error.”

Reever seriously doubted that.

Were they seriously putting their faith in this or were they just whiling away the long hours? It was hard to say, he thought, especially since one sibling seemed convinced that fantastical creatures such as vampires were real and the other was constantly generating ideas for new inventions that would put a science fiction author to shame.

“I thought the two of you were …” Reever trailed off, making a funny sort of gesture with his hand when words failed to encompass the complete and utter headache that was the Chief’s tumultuous, on-and-off relationship with Branch Director Bak Chang, “… _you know_.”

“Oh we are, we are,” Komui replied breezily, still smiling in a disarmingly goofy sort of way. “It’s just nice to have proper confirmation now and again, don’t you think?”  

Which Reever took to mean that he was relying on a community paper quiz to reassure him that his relationship was perfect for no other reason than to have an excuse to gloat about it.

He could already feel a tension headache start to build up behind his eyes and glanced over at Lenalee to see what she thought about this, but she had fallen silent.

Komui did not seem deterred by this. “Well?” he asked, “Is it 100 percent? It’s 100 percent, isn’t it. It’s all right, you can tell me,” he went on cheerfully, “I promise to act surprised.”

Reever rolled his eyes and prayed for patience.

Lenalee hesitated, the paper crinkling in her hands a little as she looked off to the side. “Oh, well it’s not _exactly_ 100 percent …” she began slowly, and then cleared her throat as though unsure how to proceed further. 

She looked at Reever desperately.

His heart immediately went out to her. “All right, all right,” he said, reaching over for the paper and bringing it up to his eye level. “Let me see what the damage is … _ah_.”

“ _Ah_?” Komui parroted back, his brows furrowing together. “What on earth is _that_ supposed to mean?”

“Well it’s _definitely_ not 100 percent,” Reever told him, not one to beat around the bush, and Lenalee seemed to relax a little at not having to break the news to her brother herself.

Komui pouted at that, but then waved his hand as though brushing the words away. “Well, you have to take margins of error into account with these things,” he said flippantly, “They’re not constructed by geniuses like you or me so we can’t really expect them to be perfect - ”

“It’s 66 percent,” Reever said loudly, before he could start rambling. It was best just to get this over with.

Komui froze. “ _What_?”

Lenalee made a small, barely discernible sound of worry at that, twisting her fingers together.

“It’s not _that_ bad, Brother!” she piped up earnestly. “Like you said, we have keep in mind that people make mistakes and, well…”

“ _66 percent_?” Komui repeated, sounding both horrified and offended. “But that’s … how can that even … let me see that!” he demanded, holding his hand out imperiously.

Reever shrugged. “Suit yourself,” he said, and passed the newspaper over.

Komui snatched it up and spread it out on his desk, reaching for a pen and running it over the pages like he was poring over a war map.

“Come on Chief, you don’t seriously believe in hogwash like this do you?” Reever sighed, leaning over the desk and watching ink splatter as Komui pressed the nib down too hard in some places. Lenalee hovered anxiously in the background behind him.

“It’s a process of elimination!” Komui snapped, counting the points up again, and from the thunderous expression on his face, Reever guessed that the results hadn’t changed by much.

“There is no right or wrong answer, but given the way the structure is set out you should be able to arrive at a successful outcome if you get a suitable number of points regardless - oh _come on_!” he exclaimed, outraged, at the number ‘70’ that now glared out at him.

“70 percent is good!” Lenalee said quickly, stepping in before he could draw breath for another complaint.  

“Seriously,” Reever told him, shaking his head, “it’s not like you scored below 50. 70 percent is reasonable and Director Bak is not going to dump you over the results of a questionable compatibility test anyway.”

“Now _this_ ,” he added, feeling a burst of inspiration as he placed his hand on top of the stack of documents he had brought in earlier and patted it firmly, “The Director will definitely have something to say about this if you don’t get these papers signed before the conference this weekend, _right_ Chief?”

“ _Ngh_ ,” Komui grumbled, and did not sound convinced, as though his desk was not littered with short, sharply written notes from the Asian Branch demanding callbacks, many of which were stuck between pages of paperwork.

He reached for the stack regardless, skimming a handful of papers off the top and arranging them in front of him with the air of a man in a sulk.

“Lousy, inaccurate piece of …” he muttered to himself, dipping his pen into an inkwell and hunching over his desk. “I’m going to have a few things to say to the editors, mark my words …”

“And what?” Reever wanted to know, accepting the signed documents that were being shoved back at him with remarkably good grace, “Tell them their formulae for determining whether a relationship between two people is cohesive is a mockery of science?”

“Exactly!”

“Chief, that test was about as accurate as the reading I got for today’s horoscope.”

Komui looked up at that, curiosity piqued. “Which was …?”

“That my week would start off slow but finish off on a bang after a particularly heated encounter,” Reever replied, shrugging dispassionately. “I mean, how vague is that? We have lab explosions every other day. It doesn’t actually _mean_ anything!”

“He’s right!” Lenalee said, leaning over Komui’s desk and flipping the pages of the community paper till she found what she was looking for.

“Look, see … they wrote up an entire article on superstitions related to love and marriage too. Honestly, what are the chances you’ll have many children if it rains on your wedding day or that you’ll be wealthy if you put a penny in your shoe? It just makes for good gossip, that’s all.”

Komui leaned over too, tilting his head a little as he mouthed the upside-down text. “Your married life will be filled with luck and good fortune if you propose during the full moon?” he repeated, raising his eyebrows and tapping the end of his pen thoughtfully against the desk.

Lenalee nodded her head, looking relieved that her brother was no longer muttering darkly to himself and looking like he was planning to take the Order’s printing presses apart. “Yes! See? It’s silly. Just a bit of harmless…”

“I’m going to do it.”

Dread settled hard and fast in Reever’s stomach.

Lenalee blinked. “Do … what?”

“Section Chief Reever, when is the next full moon this month?”

“ _No_ ,” Reever said flatly, and Komui looked at him in mild surprise, as though he didn’t know that Reever knew _exactly_ where this was going to lead.

“Doesn’t the Astronomy Division monitor and chart celestial bodies weekly?”

“You know full well that they do Curly,” Reever replied, and cursed himself for not leaving the office earlier when he had the chance.

“ _Then_ …?” Komui prompted, and Reever heaved a huge sigh.

“Friday,” he muttered.

“ _Friday_!” Komui repeated, slapping his hand down on the desk and looking triumphant. “Which coincides with the conference which means Bak-chan will be _here_!”

“In so many words, yes,” Reever confirmed, still eyeing him warily and waiting for the other shoe to drop.  

Lenalee too, seemed to have realized where this was going, because she suddenly looked both anxious and exasperated, her pigtails swinging as she hung her head.

“Brother, you’re not going to…”

“I am!” Komui exclaimed, standing up so fast that Lenalee took a step back and Reever made a sound of incoherent rage as all the paperwork went flying in huge, ink-dotted arcs.

Komui took the community newspaper into his hands and scrunched the pages into a ball.

“I’m going to ask Bak Chang to marry me!” he told them, grinning like a madman. “ _Then_ we’ll see who’s compatible!”

 

* * *

 

If he had his way, Komui thought, he would park himself and his desk right next to the Ark Gate to China just so he could propose the moment that Bak arrived at HQ.

It would have been a nice surprise yes, and he might have got a lecture about making use of the people in Logistics to drag his things down at least three flights of stairs, but there was nothing romantic _or_ memorable about it, and so he refrained.

“Are you _sure_ this is a good idea, Chief?” Reever muttered from his place to Komui’s right as the various Branch Directors and Heads of Department filed into the conference room. Bak was, of course, already seated inside, though he had given Komui a very faint smile that nonetheless made his knees weak when he had brushed past him about fifteen minutes earlier.

“All my ideas are good ideas,” Komui said primly, and staunchly ignored the very put-upon sigh that came from Reever’s direction.

“Why are you making such a big deal out of this?” he groaned.

“Because he’s perfect and I’m brilliant and we belong together,” Komui replied, frowning a little when Reever stumbled slightly next to him. “Are you all right?”

“Fine,” Reever said, straightening up, “It’s just that there were so many outright lies in that one sentence I thought I was going to collapse.”

“It’s not like I’m deciding to do this on a _whim_ you know,” Komui sniffed, giving him a wounded look. “It’s the logical progression of a good relationship. I’d planned to do it _anyway_.”

“You couldn’t wait a _little_ longer?” Reever hissed, lowering his voice as people filed past them into the conference room. “Your first anniversary was less than six months ago!”

“First _official_ anniversary,” Komui corrected, as though that made a world of difference. “Besides, he’s right there,” he added, jerking his head a little towards the door. “The timing couldn’t be better.”

“If by better you mean _worse_ then yes,” Reever replied, looking heavenwards as though a higher power would descend and save him from this madness. “We’ve only just moved into new Headquarters. Most of the Departments haven’t even finished unpacking yet. How do you plan to juggle this proposal on top of sorting everything else out?”

“Think of it as another urgent assignment,” Komui said, in the sort of flippant tone that made Reever want to yank the ridiculous curly hairs from his head. “We’re running a series of tests to prove that newspaper is a filthy rag which needs to be banned from further publication and this proposal is going to get us conclusive results.”

“Besides,” he added, “I promised Lenalee that I would tell her everything that happened when she gets back from her mission on Sunday. We’ll see what Gracia from Communications thinks about her ‘accurate’ compatibility test _then_.”

Reever stared at him. “You’re not allowed to read magazines or look at the Social section of a newspaper _ever again_ ,” he said darkly.

Komui glanced at him out of the corner of his eye. “So, are you in?” he asked casually, smiling faintly like Reever had not already pledged his life to following him and his ridiculous plans for however long this war lasted.

“What kind of a stupid question is that?” Reever demanded, scoffing and looking off to the side. “Someone’s got to run damage control when this whole thing inevitably goes pear-shaped and you’re sure as hell not going to do it.”

Komui grinned. “I’m going to make you my best man,” he said delightedly. Reever scowled at him.

“Can we not …Could you at least ask him first before you go around saying things like that? _Best man_ ,” he muttered, running his hand back through his hair as Komui continued to beam at him, “ _Jesus_. I’m the _only_ man you’ve got. Who else would go along with this shit? Fucking nobody, that’s who.”

He pinched the bridge of his nose. “I should have gone to Cambridge. Should have gone to bloody Cambridge and got my professorship. At least then I’d still have my sanity.”

“You’d have also been terribly bored,” Komui pointed out, smiling brilliantly as he rocked back on his heels. “Did you pass on my message then?”

Reever shook himself off and nodded, though at that moment a throng of people had come around the corner, so it was hard to say whether he was responding to Komui’s question or acknowledging their arriving guests.

“I talked to Jerry,” he told Komui, pausing every now and again to shake someone’s hand when it was offered to him, “and he won’t be able to spare any of the kitchenhands to play waitstaff during the end-of-day rush, but he said that if we could find someone to do that ourselves then he would be glad to have dinner sent up wherever you wished.”

Komui hummed thoughtfully. “Check in with the interns,” he suggested, making Reever’s eyebrows shoot to his hairline. “Tell them that anyone who agrees will get extra credit.”

“For what?” Reever muttered, but made a note to himself nonetheless, “For being a witness in the event the Director drops dead from the shock?”

“You should have studied theatre,” Komui remarked, not missing a beat as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, if entirely unremarkable box, “You have such a flair for dramatics.”

“I don’t want to hear that from someone who thinks an off-the-cuff proposal is a perfectly acceptable reaction to a bad test score,” Reever grumped, leaning over despite himself to get a closer look. He lowered his voice.

“So that’s it then?”

Komui glanced at him and _grinned_. He popped the lid.

Reever whistled lowly at the ring’s rounded diamond centre and its surrounding sapphire accents.

“Well,” he said appreciatively, “colour me impressed Chief. I didn’t think you’d get it done. What is that anyway, sterling silver?”

“Platinum,” Komui replied shortly, snapping the box shut and placing it back into his coat pocket lovingly.

Reever nearly swallowed his tongue. “ _Platinum_?” he yelped, causing Komui to shush him and look over his shoulder to see if anyone in the conference room had overheard.

“How…” Reever hissed, wringing his hands together so he wouldn’t wring Komui’s neck, “How did you even manage to … did you _steal_ that ring?” he asked, suddenly horrified.

“Of _course_ not,” Komui said, insulted by such an accusation, “I went down to the smithy on Tuesday and they directed me to the jewellers that make all the Order’s chalices and liturgical objects. Buying an engagement ring on a Tuesday is good luck you know,” he added as Reever continued to gape at him, “it guarantees a peaceful and content marriage. The community paper wasn’t lying about _that_.”

“So you … _paid_ for it?” Reever said slowly, already running numbers because as far as he was aware, Komui’s salary was only slightly less pitiful than his own. “ _How_?”

Komui shrugged. “It’s not an issue,” he replied cryptically, which only made Reever narrow his eyes further, “Well okay, it’s a sizeable chunk of my retirement pension fund gone but that’s not the point.”

He tilted his head back a little, gazing through the gap in the door where Bak was deep in discussion with the Director of the Middle Eastern Branch, Louis Fermi, his nose scrunching up adorably as the older man said something that he clearly didn’t agree with. It was no surprise really, Bak didn’t really agree much on anything unless you could show him why he _should_.

Komui pressed his lips together briefly.

“He’s worth it.”

Reever looked at him askance. He ran his hand back through his flyaway hair and exhaled deeply. “Ah, hell…” he muttered, and clapped Komui bracingly on the shoulder.

“I hope he says yes, Chief,” he said, ever loyal.

Komui smiled a little wryly at that, his mouth crooking upwards at one corner.

“Oh, I’m counting on it,” he replied lightly, his eyes never leaving the Branch Director’s seated form.

“I’m really, really counting on it.”

 

* * *

 

“Director Bak.”

Bak paused over the papers he was carefully filing back into their folders. Already the Order members who had been seated on either side of him were pushing their chairs back and a mass exodus was headed towards the double doors, everyone no doubt eager to get to the cafeteria or to make use of their free time as much as possible before they all had to return tomorrow for even _more_ talks.

He turned his head to face the shadow looming so close to him and raised an eyebrow.

“Head Officer,” he said politely, and Komui _beamed_ at him as though Bak had just called him by an endearingly embarrassing pet-name in public. Utterly incorrigible. “Did you need something?”

Komui gestured towards the large, arched windows overlooking the grounds and inclined his head for Bak to follow.

“Just a moment of your time,” he said, still smiling and Bak looked around as the last of the people in the conference room made a timely exit, Section Chief Reever saluting Komui briefly before he shut the doors behind him.

Bak frowned at that. Curious.

He got to his feet and made his way over to the window. The setting sun was casting a marvellous combination of reds and burnished gold over Komui’s skin and the stark whiteness of his uniform. Bak cleared his throat.

“All right, out with it,” he demanded. “What do you want - ”

Komui leaned over and kissed him, cupping Bak’s face in his hands as the words died in his throat and he did an embarrassed little squirm on the spot.

Bak pushed him away, his face burning. “What the hell was _that_?” he hissed. “I swear to God if you keep pulling rank to do this shit I’m going to…”

“Shh,” Komui murmured, and kissed him again, toe-curlingly soft and sweet. “I didn’t get to greet you properly before the meeting started,” he said by way of explanation, tilting his head and pressing curved lips to Bak’s cheek. “Hello.”

Bak squeezed his eyes shut, mortified. “Hi…” he whispered back, a shudder snaking down the full length of his spine when Komui pressed their foreheads together, holding him close for a long moment before releasing him.

He stepped back immediately, straightening out his uniform and willing the flush in his cheeks to go down while Komui continued to look at him as though he were the most delightful thing he had ever seen in his entire life.

“Well,” Bak muttered as he adjusted his hat, “now that the _introductions_ are out of the way I’m assuming you actually do have something to say, right?”

“Would I ever lie to you?” Komui sing-songed, the grin on his face only widening when Bak gave him a flat look that suggested that _yes_ he very much _would_ and had done so before on multiple occasions.

Komui amended his words. “Would I ever lie to you about anything that _matters_?”

Bak opened his mouth.

“Are you free this evening?” Komui asked, cutting in smoothly before Bak could start in on a laundry list of all his apparent faults.

“Define ‘ _free_ ’,” Bak replied testily, crossing his arms over his chest and giving Komui a suspicious once over. “I don’t know about you, but I’ve got plenty of reports to be getting through on top of the notes that will need to be amended for tomorrow’s conference, and that’s not even taking into the account all the…”

“ _Bak-chan_ ,” Komui said, and gave him a very pointed look that made Bak grimace and glare right back at him.

“Oh, honestly … what is it _now_?”

“You know what I mean,” Komui told him, and waited.

Bak shuffled his feet, looking for all the world like a trapped animal that was still hoping to spot an escape route. He sucked the inside of his cheek and stared out into the garden below them.

Finally he sighed, dropping his clenched fists to his sides.

“I’m … free,” he grated out, as though admitting to such a thing was akin to torture.

Komui’s entire countenance lit up.

“Good,” he sighed, though Bak had no idea why he sounded so _relieved_. He tilted his head a little, studying him, but he could no more understand Komui Lee’s whims in that moment than he could have ten years ago.

“Because…?” he prompted.  

Komui smiled at that, and covered one of Bak’s hands with both of his own. “Because I would very much like to take you out to dinner if you’ll let me.”

You would have thought that he had just announced his intention to dance naked on the chapel altar the way Bak stared at him, lips parted slightly in surprise.

“ _Dinner_ ,” Bak repeated slowly, as though his ears were deceiving him. “Not a plate of biscuits in the office after midnight or a sojourn to the cafeteria in a crush of hundreds of other people … _That_ kind of dinner?”

Komui made a show of thinking it over. “Oh, well if you’d prefer those other options…”

Bak’s fingers tightened on his wrist. “No,” he said sharply, quick enough that it made Komui grin. Bak pursed his lips together.

“ _No_ ,” he said again, much more calmly this time. “I … dinner sounds, lovely.”

“Is that a yes?”

“Do you want me to RSVP and send back a written confirmation?” Bak replied snippily, his hand sliding down Komui’s arm and finding purchase in the starched press of his uniform. He curled his fingers around the material.

Komui’s smile widened. “I’ll take that as a yes,” he remarked cheerfully, moving to rest his hands comfortably on the strong curve of Bak’s hips.

“Idiot,” Bak grumbled, though this time when Komui leaned down to kiss him he made no effort to pull away.

“I’ll be expecting you in the Camellia Room at half past seven,” Komui said, pressing his mouth to every frown line and delighting in the way they smoothed out. “Wear something nice.”

He hesitated; _grinned_. “Don’t be late.”

Bak actually snorted at that. “Am I ever…?”

Komui raised an eyebrow. “Do you want the polite answer or an account of my personal experience from watching you in front of the mirror?”

Bak thumped him on the arm.

Komui wheezed. “You are a vision of speed and grace,” he winced.

“Ladies and gentlemen, he can be taught.”

 

* * *

 

“Look, I know it’s not ‘proper’ but don’t even think of refilling his wine glass till it’s empty,” Reever said seriously.

“No sir,” said Emmeline, who was majoring in chemistry and did not know the first thing about fine dining.

“What about the Director?” asked Kieran, another intern who had studied under Reever in the past and was now looking at the silverware as though the complicated formulas he had worked through in the labs were _nothing_ compared to this.

“The Director tends to be partial to a little brandy after dinner, but if he starts looking like he’s about to explode start plying him with as much wine as you can,” Reever replied shortly, snatching the salad fork from Kieran and putting it back in its proper place.

“It won’t do much honestly, he doesn’t absorb alcohol like a sponge the way the Chief does, but it might soften him around the edges a little.”

“But what if he doesn’t…” Emmeline began, and trailed off under Reever’s quelling look.

“What the Director does or doesn’t do tonight is none of our business,” he told them both firmly. “That’s between him and the Chief and I trust that you’ll not go carrying tales once you leave this room.”

“No sir,” they chorused.

Reever’s shoulders sagged a little. “Thank you,” he told them sincerely. “How’s that table setting coming along, Kieran?”

“Almost done,” Kieran replied, very carefully placing candle holders around the centrepiece of camellias and straightening the tablecloth.

Reever nodded. “Will you be all right?” he asked Emmeline, who had been looking increasingly anxious the closer it got to dinnertime.

“Oh it’s not the plates I’m worried about sir,” she assured him as she fixed the ribbon around her neck. “I figure it can’t be any harder than juggling books and test tubes. It’s just. Well.” She bit her lower lip. “The Director can be a little … _too much_.”

Ah.

“Yeah, he tends to have that effect on people,” Reever sighed, scratching the back of his neck, “but don’t worry, I doubt he’ll be in much of a mood for yelling tonight.” He paused. “Unless the Chief gives him reason to.”

Emmeline thought this over. “I’ll fetch the phonograph,” she said at last. “Place it just outside the door. Lord knows a little music always takes the wind out of my Da’s sails. Maybe it will work on the Director too.”

Reever couldn’t help but grin a little at that. “It might,” he agreed. “And if things get out of hand you can always crank the volume up so people in the neighbouring rooms can have a taste of the classics instead of listening to them screaming at each other.”

Emmeline smiled, looking far less worried now, and bustled off. Reever took the moment to breathe.

“How are we looking?”

Reever inclined his head. “Not a bad job if I do say so myself,” he replied, as Komui stepped through the double doors and took everything in. “In fact I think we just increased your chances of getting the Director to accept your proposal by 80 percent.”

“I’m going to put that in your annual report, just so you know,” Komui told him, brushing his fingers over the camellias and smiling hugely at Kieran, who seemed flustered at being so close to the Head Officer of the Black Order. “A recommendation for your next job. Should have studied theatre and become a comedian.”

“When it comes to dealing with you Chief, you can either laugh or cry,” Reever shot back, “there’s no in-between.” He glanced at his watch. “It’s almost 7.30. Are you ready?”

“It’s a full moon tonight,” Komui said, glancing up at the stars with an unreadable expression on his face. “Just like we predicted. Thank goodness. I don’t think we’d have had the time to build an air cannon large enough to push any impending clouds away and Lavi’s on a mission so an overcast sky might have ruined _everything_ …”

“ _Chief_.”

Komui let out a gusty sigh and straightened up, adjusting his coat. “As ready as I’ll ever be,” he mumbled.

Reever turned and looked at Kieran, who nodded and took off to go wait by the main doors, nearly tripping over his own feet as he did so. The faint sound of violins wafted out into the night. Emmeline had found the phonograph then.

“You know what you’re going to say?” he asked, pushing Komui’s hands away from his tie before he worried it to pieces.

Komui chuckled, though there was a definite note of strain in his voice now that the moment had finally arrived. “I was thinking of doing it after dessert, you know? Let the meal finish on a good note. I left the ring on the food cart with that nice girl over by the phonograph.”

“You actually thought this through,” Reever said, sounding approving as he gave Komui a final once-over.

“A little,” Komui admitted. “How hard can it be? I just have to say ‘Will you marry me?’ and that’s that. Easy as pie. I mean the worst thing he could say is ‘no’, right?” he laughed and then paused, falling quiet so suddenly that Reever looked up in concern.

“Unless he says ‘yes’,” Komui said worriedly, grabbing Reever and shaking him a little. “ _What do I do if he says ‘yes’_?” he demanded, his voice rising slightly in panic.

“What do you mean ‘ _if_ ’?” Reever snapped, trying to pin Komui’s arms against his sides so his brain would stop feeling like it was rattling around in his skull. “You were all for the Director saying ‘yes’ a few hours ago!”

“ I never planned for the aftermath!” Komui hissed. “What do I _do_?”

“How the _hell_ should I know, I haven’t exactly done this before either!”

“Um,” said Kieran helpfully, who was standing at the double doors watching them grapple with each other and pointing a little unsurely behind him. “Director Bak is here, Chief Komui sir.”

Komui and Reever stared at each other and broke apart.

Komui cleared his throat and dusted himself off. “Right,” he said, still sounding a little shaky but slowly getting himself under control. “Right … I’ll. Tell him I’ll be there in a minute.”

Kieran nodded and gave them them one last worried look before heading back.

Komui turned to Reever with a hunted expression the moment he was gone. Reever grasped his shoulders.

“It’s not too late to back out Chief,” he told him seriously. “Really, what are you even trying to prove here? If you’re not ready then just … treat this as you would any other date. The Director won’t be any wiser. It’s _fine_.”

“It’s _not_ fine,” Komui replied. “If I don’t do this now then there won’t be another full moon until December … and I might not even get to _see_ him in December.”

“So _wait_ ,” Reever said. “It’s not like he’s going anywhere.”

Komui hesitated. “No,” he murmured, quietly and surprisingly serious. “It’s … It’s been long enough. If I lose him after this and I never …” he squeezed his eyes shut briefly, and when he opened them again he looked more determined, as though this were just another mission he had to monitor.

“I have to at least _try_.”

Reever gave him a scrutinizing look. Then he rolled his eyes, straightened Komui’s tie and gave him a shove towards the door.

“Then get out there and start _trying_ already, you curly-haired moron.”

Komui shook his head and grinned at him fondly. “Ah, Reever~” he sighed forlornly, placing a hand over his heart. “You’re a treasure. Run away with me.”

Reever barked out a laugh in spite of himself. “I’d kill you a day into the engagement and you know it. Director Bak is welcome to have you.”

Komui’s smile turned self-depreciating. “We’ll see.”

Reever gave him a thumbs up. “I’ll be back tomorrow to check whether he tried to drown you in the soup bowl,” he said, and made a beeline for the side door that led down to the servants’ quarters. “Good luck, Chief.”

“I hope you’re not planning on turning in early tonight,” Komui called after him, “because I’m going to give you a play-by-play of _all_ the gory details later.”

“Thanks but no thanks,” Reever replied, raising his hand slightly in farewell.

Then the door clicked shut behind him and Komui was left to his own devices in a chandelier-lit room with two trainee-scientists-turned-waitstaff and his future waiting just out of reach.

 

* * *

 

“Let him in,” Komui whispered urgently, when he felt like his heart was going to drumroll its way out of his ribcage.

Kieran startled. “Oh, right!” he exclaimed, and hurried to open the door, “The Chief will see you now, Director.”

“It’s about _time_ ,” Bak retorted, striding straight through and only agitating Komui’s nerves further. No backing out of it now. “Honestly, he has the cheek telling _me_ not to be late.”

Then he looked up from the cufflink he had been fiddling with and just _stared_.

“You came!” Komui said, moving forward to envelop Bak in his arms and hoping he didn’t sound too nervous. It was hard not be tongue-tied. Bak already looked handsome in uniform. Seeing him dressed up for the evening was almost too much to bear.

Bak continued to stare at him, his hands hovering slightly over Komui’s person as though he wasn’t sure where to put them.

“Bak-chan?”

“You changed your _shirt_ ,” Bak said at last, sounding simultaneously surprised and delighted as he reached up, fingers carding through Komui’s hair and over the plane of his cheek in such a way that it was a wonder Komui remembered to breathe. “I can’t believe this … did you wash up too?”

“You don’t have to sound so taken aback,” Komui muttered, seizing Bak’s hand and kissing his fingertips. “I said I was going to treat you to a proper dinner, didn’t I?”

Bak shrugged at that, his eyes still raking Komui’s face like he couldn’t quite believe what he was seeing. Then he seemed to think this over and paused, squinting at Komui suspiciously.

“What _is_ the occasion that warrants this special dinner, anyway?”

“Are you saying I can’t do something nice for you just because I love you?” Komui wanted to know, spinning him around so he could lead Bak further into the room before he asked too many questions. He made a violent gesture behind his back to Kieran, and hoped he got the hint.

“We don’t _do_ dates,” Bak pointed out, his breath hitching as Komui pushed him through the balcony doors.

“ _Remember_ …?” he said desperately, suddenly both overwhelmed and unsure at the sight that greeted them; of the little dining table decorated with candles and camellias overlooking the gardens. “We agreed … oh, _Komui_.”

He sounded frustrated, Komui thought, but not _mad_. It was a good sign.

“Well maybe we ought to start,” he said gently, pulling out Bak’s seat for him and giving him his best smile.

“This is too much,” Bak muttered, his face pink even in the candlelight as he slapped Komui’s hands away and shooed him back to his own seat. “Stop being a gentleman. It doesn’t suit you,” he scolded, sitting himself down regardless and admiring the silverware.

“Would you like a glass of wine?” Komui offered, just as there was a loud ‘pop’ from behind them and Kieran raced forward with a bottle of pinot noir.

“Oh my _God_ ,” Bak said, covering his mouth with his hand like he was trying desperately not to smile. “Who are you and what have you done with Komui Lee?”

“He thought it was unfair that his beautiful, clever Bak-chan worked so hard and never got any appreciation for it,” Komui quipped as Kieran finished filling up their glasses and bowed his way back indoors. “So he wanted to show him a good time.”

“You mean as opposed to stolen kisses in dark corridors and quickies in between meetings,” Bak retorted, still taking in his surroundings with an air of quiet rapture.

“Yes, as opposed to _that_ ,” Komui said, unfolding his napkin and placing it on his lap.

“You’re going to have so much work to catch up on after this,” Bak pointed out as he did the same.

Komui gave him an exasperated look. “To _hell_ with work,” he replied, causing Bak to raise an eyebrow at him. “Not a single romantic bone in your body, I swear.”

Bak frowned at that. “Romance is overrated,” he said shortly. “Big, grand gestures to impress just don’t do it for me.”

He did have a point, Komui thought. No doubt young men of Bak’s social standing were always trying to outdo each other with extravagant gifts during a courtship to secure their love interest’s affections. It probably got tiresome after a while.

“What about a small, heartfelt gesture from someone who thinks the world of you?” he asked.

Bak had both eyebrows raised now. “From _you_?” he wanted to know, looking at Komui doubtfully. “‘Grand gestures’ might as well be your middle name.”

“But this …” he added, gesturing at the beautifully set table in front of him, “… this is very sweet, and I … thank you,” he finished, somewhat haltingly, a little more pink than he had been previously, “for inviting me.”

Komui beamed at him, and privately wondered if it was possible to exude so much adoration for someone that they could feel it. He was certainly going to try, nonetheless.

“Don’t thank me just yet,” Komui said teasingly as he waved Emmeline out onto the balcony, and watched Bak’s grey eyes get wide and round as she wheeled the food cart out to them. “Just wait until you get to dessert.”

He really deserved a commendation he thought, for not dropping down on one knee and proposing on the spot when Emmeline started removing the cloches on each of the dishes and Bak smiled so brilliantly that it dimpled his cheeks.

 

* * *

 

“I’m glad that you actually ingested something other than coffee tonight,” Bak told him as he set his fork and knife down neatly on his plate. “How you haven’t collapsed yet is beyond me.”

“You underestimate me, Bak-chan. All I need to live is coffee, love and fresh air~”

“That … would actually explain a _lot_ of things,” Bak said slowly, wiggling his fingers at Komui’s forehead as though that single gesture could justify what he liked to think of as bouts of ‘mad genius’ but which Reever had helpfully coined ‘brief periods of insanity’.

“Like why the Head Nurse is always cursing certain pain-in-the-neck scientists who never submit to medical check-ups.”

“Didn’t you try to run away from the hospital ward once?” Komui asked, his mouth curving wickedly when Bak abruptly turned a slight shade of pink.

“You must be thinking of someone else,” Bak retorted, though he seemed to be speaking more directly to his plate than to Komui’s face. “Nevermind the fact that woman has all the bedside manner of a plague doctor.”

“Oh I’m sure you were a perfectly _delightful_ patient,” Komui replied, his grin all teeth when Bak looked up to glare at him. “Positively _angelic_.”

“You try recuperating in that awful, dingy place with its whitewashed walls and the smell of disinfectant crawling up your nose twenty-four hours a day and see how _you_ like it.”

“Well the new infirmary has windows,” Komui pointed out, unable to help himself, “So just for future reference that excuse isn’t going to wash anymore.”

“ _Ugh_ ,” Bak said, making a face, and Komui already knew he was making plans in his head to _not_ wind up in HQ’s medical ward the next time there was an Order-wide emergency.

A companionable silence settled over them.

“You know,” Bak said at last, picking his fork up again and chasing a cherry tomato around his plate with an offhandedness that polite society would have labeled as awful table manners, but which Komui found utterly charming, “I had my doubts about Central deciding to move HQ here but it really is much nicer than the old one.”

“Well it _is_ bigger,” Komui admitted, his face propped idly in his hand as Bak finally speared the wayward vegetable and popped it into his mouth, “Not as many stairs though.”

“The fountain is a nice touch,” Bak added, tilting his head a little to look over the balcony at the beautiful stone structure in the garden below, “and the atmosphere is not … well.”

“Utterly miserable?” Komui guessed. That wasn’t strictly true though. It may have been a newer building, but having to share their space with Central’s lackeys hadn’t exactly done much to dispel any feelings of bitterness among the staff.

“I was going to say ‘nothing like the setting in a horror novel or a church graveyard’,” Bak said, swallowing and taking a measured sip from the brandy glass that had been left on the table for him as soon as the main course had finished, “but I suppose ‘miserable’ works too.”

“You were the one who wanted to spend the rest of your career there.”

“I was willing to put aside personal taste for the sake of the war,” Bak replied, alcohol blunting the sharpness of his tone on this otherwise touchy subject between them, “and I would have built a solarium.”

“A _solarium_?” Komui repeated, finding himself smiling. “We hardly got any sun as it was.”

“That’s because you barely stepped foot out of the labs, you cave fish.”

“This from someone who was actually born and raised in a cave,” Komui said, shaking his head with feigned dismay.

Bak looked indignant. “The Asian Branch is not a damp, filthy _cave_ ,” he said loftily, looking down his nose at Komui the way he always did when he thought he was being particularly daft. Granted, it only really worked when they were both sitting down, which Komui found far too funny to be offended.

“It is a state-of-the-art facility, a sanctuary carved out of the mountainside by my great-grandfather, it’s -”

“- an architectural wonder nicknamed the ‘House of the Holy Spirit’ that has stood for generations,” Komui drawled, mimicking Bak. “Yes, yes I _know_. I’ve done my homework. Still doesn’t make it any less of a cave, though.”

Bak opened his mouth to argue and then abruptly closed it again when he failed to counter that point.

“We do have a conservatory here though,” Komui carried on before Bak could mount a debate on the living conditions of caves as compared to a crowded, clifftop tower. “It’s very pretty, and our trading partners have very generously donated a number of plants from every corner of the British Empire.”

“I imagine all that foliage makes for a great hiding spot too,” Bak remarked shrewdly, but Komui only waggled his eyebrows at him.

“I’m all for finding out if you are.”

Bak snorted. “Tempting,” he answered, “but I’m afraid I’ll have to decline.”

“A visit to the conservatory or an invitation to have some fun behind some exotic, imported bushes?”

“Well I’m definitely going to do one of those things when you’re not around,” Bak said without missing a beat. He waved his fork at Komui. “I’ll let you figure out which.”

“Bak-chan, I’m appalled,” Komui replied, sitting back in his seat a little, “If you’re going to wander the grounds you should at least take me with you.”

“And face Assistant Chief Fey’s wrath when she finds out I let you loose without her prior permission? Nice try.”

Komui frowned at that, his cheery facade dropping into a pout. “Why is everyone more afraid of Ms Fey than they are of me?”

“You mean _besides_ the fact that she’s from Central?” Bak wanted to know. He patted Komui’s hand sympathetically. “ _Spatzi_ … you don’t have a single mean bone in your body.”

“ _What_?” Komui exclaimed, sitting up straighter. “No! I can be strict. I’m _totally_ strict.”

Bak gave him a flat stare.

“Don’t look at me like that, it’s true!”

“If you mean the fact that you’re harder on yourself than on any of your subordinates, then _yes_ you’re strict,” Bak replied, with so much clarity in that moment that it was almost terrifying, “but I don’t think that really counts.”

Komui dragged a hand down his face. “I wish you wouldn’t do that,” he muttered.

“Do what?” Bak asked, as though he hadn’t just laid Komui’s inner workings bare; like he had merely been making an observation and didn’t even realize that he had pulled off a bit of a cleverly constructed mask without meaning to.

“Forget it,” Komui said, and hid behind his wine glass under the pretense of having a drink despite the fact that his glass was still mostly full and had been all evening. He wasn’t going to take any chances with a loosened tongue, nerves or not.

When he finally put the glass down Bak was idly plucking at camellia petals, his expression unusually soft and thoughtful.

“Thank you, really,” Bak said quietly, and Komui almost had to strain to hear him over the sweet tones of phonograph music in the background. “For tonight I mean. I don’t think I’ve gone on a proper date in nearly two years.”

Which, in fact, coincided perfectly with their last and messiest breakup and confirmed that Bak _had_ been entertaining the company of other people while Komui had whiled away the days feeling like his heart had been gutted from his chest, but now was not the time to dig at old wounds. He swallowed the spike of jealousy down, where it settled bitterly in his stomach.

“It’s not much,” he replied, almost as quietly, taking care to look up at the full moon instead of at Bak. Mask or no mask, he’s been told before that jealousy and anger have always shown up starkly on his face, and he doesn’t want Bak to see him making such a fierce expression if he can help it.

“I mean … Jerry prepared the meal and Reever recruited a couple of interns from the Science Department to help out, so I didn’t really do …”

“It’s one of the nicest things anyone’s ever done for me,” Bak told him, “It’s one of the nicest things _you’ve_ ever done for me … which is saying a lot really, given how much of a soft touch you are.”

There is so much sincerity in his voice that Komui _has_ to look at him, though he almost wishes he hadn’t.

Bak is smiling. He is smiling in that crooked, slightly uncertain way that crinkles his eyes at the corners and makes him look about five years younger. He is smiling like he has never smiled at anyone else and it wasn’t _fair_ , Komui thought, for anyone to look so effervescent and good in the warm candle glow, as though he were made to walk in starlight and light up all the dark places.

“Bak-chan…” he began, curling his fingers over Bak’s hand.

He hesitated.

He hasn’t lived for his own sake since Lenalee had been born. He has been brother, parent, minder, _supervisor_ and he is fine with that. He has given himself wholly to the Order for love of his sister. He has given when there is already barely enough left to _give_. Sometimes he wonders if he has stretched himself too thin.

He has nothing. He is not an Epstein or a Leverrier or another glorified noble who has contributed something grand to the history of this organization.

What does he have left to pledge to this man besides a love so fierce he feels like he might one day burst under the strain of it? Still, he _wants_ , so much that he can feel it like an ache in his chest.

He wants, and so he must _try_.

Komui tried to smile. It didn’t work very well.

“I believe I promised you dessert.”

“You don’t have to look so grim,” Bak remarked, tangling their fingers together as Kieran came forward to clear away their plates. “I know sweets aren’t really your thing.”

“A promise is a promise,” Komui said firmly, and wondered if rubbing the knuckle of Bak’s ring finger would be too obvious a play. He cleared his throat.

Emmeline bustled in, carrying a small chocolate cake innocuously topped with a pink buttercream rose in each hand. She glanced at Komui, who gave her a minute nod, before setting each plate down in their respective places.

Bak stared at the cake. “You’re a disgusting, unrepentant romantic,” he eventually said.

“I have no idea what you mean,” Komui replied innocently, watching Bak tilt his head this way and that to admire the little dessert from all sides.

A little hole had been carved out of the centre of Bak’s cake before its rose “lid” had been put in place, and that is where Komui had placed the ring beforehand, carefully wrapped in rice paper. 

He will probably have to surrender his own dessert after this, he thought, smiling in spite of the fact that he could now hear his heart thundering in his ears, because ring or no ring, Bak is going to feel cheated.

Komui would surrender the entire plate of cakes to him if that is what it would take.

“Your hand is sweating,” Bak said suddenly, startling him. He was tapping his dessert fork absentmindedly against the tablecloth and looking at Komui curiously.

“Ah, well … it’s a little warm out,” Komui lied, releasing Bak’s hand to wipe his palm quickly on his napkin.

“It’s the middle of _November_ ,” Bak replied, frowning a little and looking even more suspicious than he had before dinner. “Komui …”

“ _Bak-chan_ ,” Komui exclaimed abruptly, causing Bak to jump a little in his seat, looking baffled.

“I … you were right,” he said at last, jiggling his leg and taking Bak’s hand in both of his own. “I do have an ulterior motive for inviting you here tonight and I … I have something very important that I would like to say if you are willing to hear me out.”

Bak’s eyebrows shot to his hairline. “You had me at ‘Bak-chan you were right’,” he admitted, leaning over the table a little as though the secrets of the universe were about to reveal themselves to him. “Go on.”

_Courage_ , Komui thought desperately, and cleared his throat, cheeks prickling with heat.

“Bak-chan,” he says again and then stops. “ _Bak_ ,” he corrected himself, and Bak looks at him like he has never seen him before in his life.

“I realize … I _know_ that in the past my being elected Head Officer must have hurt you, even though that was never my intention,” _even though it wasn’t my fault_ , he doesn’t add, because the last thing he wants right now is to draw Bak’s ire over this one petty dispute that lingers between them, “and for that I am sorry.”

The quiet that follows his words is almost deafening.

“I know you are,” Bak said softly, just when Komui feared he would go mad from anxiety, though his eyes rake Komui with a laser-sharpness that seem to be dissecting him down to his core.

“You did what you had to and I … I brought shame to my family name and made a real tit of myself trying to prove you were just like Leverrier. So I…” he trailed off, pursing his lips together. “I’m sorry too.”

It’s a breakthrough. For Bak, who is as stubborn as the stone of the mountain under which he was raised, to actually swallow his pride and apologize when Komui has never even managed to wrangle a shred of remorse from him before …

They smiled hesitantly at each other and Komui would have forgotten what he wanted to say next if the emotion wasn’t sitting so heavy in his chest and crushing all the breath from his lungs.

“ _I love you_ ,” Komui said, so raw and so heartfelt that he felt Bak’s fingers curl under his own in apprehension. “I have loved you for an age, even when I wasn’t supposed to, even though I had more pressing responsibilities to take care of … I have loved you through hardship and loss and _duty_ and I have never wanted to choose because I could not bear the thought of not choosing you.”

“Komui …”

“I love you _still_ ,” Komui continued fervently, dropping his forehead down on their joined hands, “and I would love you for many more years and _forever_ no matter who or what tries to persuade me otherwise.”

“ _Spatzi_ , it’s fine.”

“I would give you something as a token of my commitment and I can only pray that you’ll -” Komui stopped and lifted his head, frowning. “What do you mean it’s _fine_?”

“You don’t have to wax lyrical at me,” Bak said, chewing carefully around his words as he shook his head. “You know I hate that drivel. It’s water under the bridge now.”

Water under the … Komui stared at him in disbelief. Wait, what was he even _eating_?

He frowned and looked down. The cake was gone.

[The _cake_ was _gone_.](http://i.imgur.com/JHWsEQX.png)

Horror swooped fast and thick in Komui’s stomach. _The ring._

“Bak-chan…” he said slowly, though he feared he already knew the answer. “What happened to your cake?”

Bak suddenly stopped chewing and looked at Komui with round eyes before setting his fork down on the table. “…What cake?”

“ _Bak-chan_!”

“ _What_?” Bak exclaimed, “You apologized, I apologized … I thought that was the end of it!”

He _swallowed_ it, Komui thought hysterically, bringing a hand up to his mouth before he gave in to the urge to laugh himself sick as he looked at the chocolate crumbs on Bak’s plate.

_He swallowed his own engagement ring._

“Komui…?” Bak asked, looking more than a little worried now. He wondered what the expression on his face must have looked like. “Are you all right? Was I … Was I not supposed to eat the cake? Should I call that girl back in here and ask her for another one?”

Komui pressed his lips together and shook his head. If he started laughing now he might not be able to stop.

Whatever made him think this was going to be easy? Dealing with Bak was _never_ easy.

He rose from his seat. “Come here,” he said, moving around to Bak’s side of the table and dropping down to his knees beside his chair. He held out his arms, feeling overwhelmingly fond.  

Bak looked at him like he was hiding a bear-trap under his coat. “ _Why_?” he demanded.

“Water under the bridge,” Komui repeated, and smiled at him, “Also I love you very, _very_ much. Did I mention that?”

Bak’s shoulders sagged, his hackles dropping. “It’s getting you to _stop_ that’s the hard part,” he muttered, turning in his chair a little to put his arms around Komui’s shoulders before leaning down to kiss him. Komui responded by putting his arms around his waist in turn.

He tasted like chocolate.

“… You know, I don’t feel much like eating anymore,” Bak murmured when they pulled away, pressing his forehead to Komui’s own as more kisses were trailed across his face. “Take me to bed?”

Komui grinned against his mouth. “If that’s what you want~”

“You’re _terrible_ at being coy,” Bak replied, and pulled gently at Komui’s bottom lip with his teeth. “Also, Komui?”

“Yes, Bak-chan?”

“I don’t know what’s going on in that head of yours, but there is _nothing_ erotic about you trying to shove your fingers into my mouth.”

…… Well, the chances of him getting the ring back now were slim to none anyway.

“Right. Sorry,” Komui said and thumbed the corner of Bak’s lips before kissing him again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To be continued. 
> 
> Also just a note to say I owe a few fics to a number of other people and don't worry, I haven't forgotten and am still working on them in-between finishing off this one.


	2. Mouldering

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The second ring.

“ _He swallowed the ring_?” Reever repeated in complete disbelief.

“In one go,” Komui confirmed cheerfully, not taking his eyes off a letter he was writing to the East India Trading Company about a warehouse that the Order had bought over to store incoming goods.

“I barely slept a wink last night, I kept thinking about it. I’m _still_ thinking about it, to be honest.”

“So … nothing happened,” Reever went on, trying to make sense of this puzzle as much as was humanly possible. “Right…? I mean I’m _assuming_ nothing happened given the fact that you didn’t burst into the labs at 3 in the bloody morning to talk my ear off about it, _but_ Emmeline also reported that the Director was in a very affectionate mood and actually left _with_ you when dinner was over, which means …”

He trailed off, shaking his head. “I’m getting mixed signals here, Chief. Help me out.”

“Oh no, no the proposal was a complete disaster,” Komui replied, lifting the sheet of paper he was working on and gently blowing the ink dry. “Yes, Bak-chan left a completely different bedroom this morning from the one that was assigned to him at the start of the conference but no we are still, in fact, unwed.”

“You’re going to remain unwed either way because you haven’t actually _married_ him yet,” Reever muttered.

“Alas the ring has been lost,” Komui carried on dramatically, as though Reever had not spoken. “I imagine it will end up in the sewers eventually. Most tragic, but we shall find a way to carry on nonetheless.”

Reever narrowed his eyes. “You seem … surprisingly okay with that, Chief,” he said slowly. “I mean considering what it _cost_ I was sure you’d have a fit.”

“Well I tried getting it back,” Komui replied, though Reever didn’t dare ask what he meant by that. “I gave up when Bak-chan started looking like he would have no qualms about biting my fingers off.”

He was definitely _not_ going to ask. “So what happens now then?”

Komui winked conspiratorially and put his pen down to open the bottom drawer of his desk. He reached in and retrieved a very familiar-looking box, which he then offered to Reever, who took it apprehensively and peered inside before slamming the lid shut again.

“You’re crazy,” he told Komui accusingly, shoving the box back at him as though it held a live snake. “There’s no conceivable way you could afford _two_ diamond rings. I thought you said…”

“I can’t,” Komui said breezily, like a man who had foreseen complications in his plan from the start and had acted accordingly, “afford more than one diamond ring, that is. You’re right. That’s why the one I hid in the cake wasn’t real.”

Reever raised his eyebrows. “It wasn’t _real_?”

“Quartz and alexandrite set in silver-plated copper,” Komui replied triumphantly, looking far too smug over his own cleverness. “I wasn’t going to let the real ring get covered in cake and icing. I just wanted him to maybe take a little bite … see a hint of sparkle, but you know how he is with sweets.”

Reever didn’t _see_ , and prayed he would never have to.

“Okay,” he said, sorting this information out in his head, “So Director Bak swallowed a dummy ring. Fine. What are you going to do with the real one?”

“A full moon is visible from Earth for three days,” Komui told him, sitting back in his chair and lacing his fingers together. “So technically that means I’ve got till the conference ends on Sunday evening tomorrow to pop the question.”

“But…?” Reever hedged, not liking the glint in his eye one bit.

“Well I’d rather get it done today if possible,” Komui said. “Why wait, right?”

“I can think of a few reasons why you _should_ ,” Reever muttered darkly, “but since you’re intent on seeing this through till the end I’ll support you all the way. Are you going to be taking him out to dinner again?”

Komui shook his head. “I’d rather not lose the one ring I’ve got left,” he said lightly, and swiveled his chair around to look out the window. “I’d take him into town if I could, but I doubt Ms. Fey would let me make the trip and there are too many variables to take into account in a public setting besides.”

Reever shrugged helplessly at that. It was true that the grounds here were much less damp and dreary than those at old HQ, but still. A romantic getaway it was not.

“Maybe you could just go for a walk around the grounds,” he suggested. “Have a chat, explore a little. See where that leads you.”

Komui hummed thoughtfully at that. “I don’t know,” he said, “Bak-chan doesn’t really like to wander around idly with no destination in - oh!” he exclaimed, suddenly scooting his chair so close to the windows it looked like he was going to press his nose against the glass. “That’s it!”

“What’s it?”

“Our destination!” Komui replied, getting up from his seat to unlatch the windows open and leaning so far out into the crisp autumn air that for one wild second Reever thought he was going to fall over the side. He pointed. “Right there!”

Reever peered outside and looked around. “What exactly am I looking at?”

“The fountain in the eastern gardens!” Komui told him, turning his head as though he could peer around the side of the building if he only leaned over hard enough.

“Chief, you can’t see the eastern gardens from here.”

Komui flapped his hand. “Never mind that,” he said shortly. “The point is that’s where we’re heading. Bak-chan was just saying how nice the fountain looked yesterday. I’ll propose to him there. He’ll _love_ it.”

Well, Reever thought, there were worse places. People had a tendency to flick coins into that particular fountain so the water was always casting a shimmering reflection on the marble. Maybe Bak would find that aesthetically pleasing. Maybe he ought to go down himself later; toss a few coins in and wish for the Chief’s success.

“A walk around the garden isn’t enough though,” Komui muttered to himself, moving away from the window and starting to pace around the room. “The fountain is pretty but it’s not _impressive_. What else can we do?”

“I thought you said Director Bak didn’t like grand gestures,” Reever reminded him, leaning on the desk as Komui wandered around making shapes with his hands for a plan that only he could see.

“What do the noble-born know of grand gestures?” Komui scoffed, tilting his head up to look at the plaster moulding in the ceiling as though inspiration would drop out of the sky if he only stared hard enough.

“They just take a small thing and make it bigger. Bigger bouquets, bigger diamonds … like _more_ of something is supposed to compensate for the fact that it would look ridiculous in smaller amounts. No!” he said, putting his foot down and whirling on Reever with a fire in his eyes that Reever had come to associate with scheming together a new invention.

“Of _course_ Bak-chan can’t be bothered with giant tokens of esteem! That’s so dull. We can do better!”

“There you go with this ‘we’ business again,” Reever groaned. “I’m behind you one hundred percent Chief, you know that but - ”

“Excellent! Get the team together! I want to see at least a dozen different ideas before lunch!”

“What!?” Reever yelped, just as the office doors opened a crack and Brigitte Fey peered inside, her lips pursed together.

“Chief Komui, the Foreign Secretary has arrived,” she said primly, in the sort of tone that suggested that he had better stop shouting and get himself looking presentable within the next five minutes or there would be _consequences_. The door clicked shut again.

Komui sighed. “Duty calls,” he said tiredly, wandering back to his desk to shuffle his papers.

He picked up the ring box and held it for a long moment, before taking it and pressing it into Reever’s palm. “Look after this for me, will you?”

“Chief, I really don’t think …” Reever protested, trying to give the box back at him.

“Take it,” Komui insisted seriously, taking the box back in hand momentarily before shoving it into the pocket of Reever’s lab coat with a firm little pat. “Just in case this meeting drags on into the afternoon and through the next conference. It might even give you inspiration,” he added, grinning slightly.

“I’m not your personal events coordinator!”

“But you did such a great job setting up last night’s dinner!” Komui told him, gathering up the documents Reever had been leaning on and making his way to the door. “Who else could I trust to do it better and make sure everything goes _perfectly_ this time?”

“Listen, Curly -”

“Look, I’ll start you off. Just imagine the grossest, most romantic thing you can think of and multiply it by six!”

“What does that even _mean_?” Reever exclaimed, throwing his hands up, but Komui had already made his escape and was shutting the door behind him.

“I’ll stop by and check up on things when I manage to get a free moment so don’t worry!”

Reever stared after him. Then he dropped his face into his hands and tried not to make incoherent sounds of frustration.

_Now_ what?

 

* * *

 

“Well you can’t say the man isn’t pulling out all the stops,” Jiji remarked, pulling an eye loupe out of his pocket and pushing his glasses up. He squinted at the ring and whistled lowly.

“Christ, how many carats do you think this rock is anyway? One? Two?”

“I’m perfectly content not knowing if it’s all the same,” Reever replied, circling the eastern garden’s main fountain for what felt like the fifth time and feeling just as lost as ever. “And be careful will you? Half of the Chief’s pension fund is sitting in the palm of your hand right now.”

“ _Relax_ , boss,” Jiji said, snapping the ring box shut and handing it back. “I promise this ain’t gonna disappear down anyone’s gullet like that last ring did with the little master.”

“I’m starting to regret ever telling you that,” Reever muttered as he shoved the ring box back into his pocket, lifting his hand to shield his eyes against the sun. God, event planning was _Logistics’_ department, not his.

“Rob, any idea what this space is usually used for?”

“Well according to the groundskeeper’s records the eastern courtyard was last used two weeks ago during Guy Fawkes’ Night,” Rob replied, flipping through a worn, leather bound journal.

“Oh hey, I remember that!” Johnny piped up, who was sitting cross-legged on the lip of the fountain while sketching in his notepad. “They had fireworks and a bonfire and treacle toffee and everything! It was loads of fun.”

“Says here a few finders were also thrown into overnight lock-up for rolling out an effigy of Inspector Leverrier to be burned,” Rob added, flipping a page in the journal.

Jiji snorted. “Does it mention the name of the sadsack who reported it and why they’re allergic to fun?”

“I believe it was the principle of the thing. Apparently in the line-up of effigies that included the Inspector, the Earl and Guy Fawkes himself, they wanted the Inspector to burn first.”

“And no one’s used the courtyard since then?” Reever wanted to know, ignoring the way Jiji started howling with laughter in the background. “Were the effigies disposed of?”

Rob shook his head. “It doesn’t say.”

“I guess that means a pyrotechnics display isn’t _completely_ out of the question,” Reever said thoughtfully, scratching at the scruff on his chin. “... still, I don’t think we should go that far if we can help it. I know the Chief really wants to make an impression but I’m not sure the Director is going to be keen on huge, great Catherine wheels spinning over his head.”

“What about a set piece that spells out ‘Marry Me’ when it’s fired?” Johnny suggested, turning his notepad around to show a stylized cartoon of fireworks going off over the rooftops of HQ.

“You’d be able to see that shit from the town on the opposite side of the island,” Jiji said, still wiping tears of mirth from his eyes. “I don’t think the Chief’s going to be very pleased when he finds himself spending his engagement in the infirmary because the sight of such a public display of affection is probably going to give Director Bak a royal fit of rashes.”

“Here’s an idea,” said Cash, who had up until that point been staring at a hydrangea bush like she still couldn’t quite believe they were even _out_ here when there was plenty of work to be getting on with _in_ the labs, “why doesn’t the Chief just _tell_ him he wants to marry him?”

“He’s grandstanding,” Reever said irritably.

Jiji snickered. “Well he tried but apparently the Director thought the ring would look better in his stomach than on his finger.”

“The Chief’s always been a huge romantic,” Johnny added.

“You eventually learn that life becomes a lot easier when you just agree to go along with his schemes,” Rob finished off with a shrug.

Cash stared at them. “... and you’re okay with that?” she asked, looking doubtful.

Jiji shrugged. “If the Chief wants to spend the rest of his born days with that high-maintenance firecracker it’s no skin off my nose. Oh hey, there’s an idea! Firecrackers!” he exclaimed, as Johnny dutifully flipped a page in his notebook and started doodling.

“I meant with all … _that_ ,” Cash said, gesturing to the sketches and rough blueprints of plans that Johnny was piecing together. “Is half of this stuff even _legal_?”

“Well he _is_ the Chief,” Reever replied tiredly, “He’s somehow always managed to get projects like this off the ground without, you know, all of us being fired.”

“Except he’s never had Central breathing so closely down his neck before,” Rob pointed out.

Reever nodded. “Right. That. Which is why I would prefer if we could come up with something low-key that’s _not_ going to attract the attention of half the occupants in the Eastern Wing,” he added with emphasis, narrowing his eyes at both Jiji and Johnny.  

Johnny looked sheepish. “So… no fireworks then?” he asked, flipping over his unfinished sketch of what looked like a very fancy, dragon-headed fire rocket.

“No fireworks,” Reever said flatly, who was already having flashbacks involving lab accidents and burnt-off eyebrows. “No firecrackers. Let’s try to think small-scale, okay?”

“What about sparklers?” Johnny wanted to know, trying and failing not to look put out.

“... I suppose we could get away with sparklers,” Reever said warily. “So long as they’re not the huge, fountain-spraying kind you see in circuses and stage performances,” he added hastily before Johnny could put pen to paper again.

“Maybe we ought to lay a trap,” Jiji suggested. “Start at the conference room and lead out with a trail of sweets towards…”

“What kind of fairytale do you think this is?” Reever demanded, dragging his hands down his face with the air of a man who was two steps away from throwing in the towel.

“We shouldn’t use sweets just in case someone else tries to pick them up,” Rob spoke up slowly, “but setting up a trail to the fountain isn’t such a bad idea. It might give the Chief something of a marker to follow, you know? Just in case he loses his nerve and starts rambling and they end up wandering the grounds all night.”

“Okay, but a trail made out of _what_?”

“Lanterns,” Cash said suddenly, so deadpan that they all whirled to look at her in surprise. “If fireworks and crackers are out but he still wants to give the guy something to admire along the way, then … lanterns are our next best option.”

“ _Lanterns_ ,” Johnny breathed, looking delighted as he started to sketch in earnest. “That’s perfect! All we’d need are wire frames and maybe some patterned paper or coloured silk! We could definitely have those made up for the Chief before this evening!”

“Hmm,” Reever murmured thoughtfully, taking in their surroundings. “That’s true … and we could always set them out along the perimeter and the pathways. Not on any of the topiary or in the bushes mind you, but you know … I think this could work.”

“Yeah, if the Chief _agrees_ ,” Jiji pointed out. Reever scowled at him.

“I’ll handle the Chief,” he said, “and this is our best bet besides. There’s no way we’ll be able to create any other kind of light show _and_ test it out before nightfall, because it will be impossible to see how it looks while the sun is up anyway.”

“... If you’re sure.”

“They’re lanterns,” Johnny said again, chewing thoughtfully on his pencil as his eyes lit up with the prospect of getting to design something other than exorcist uniforms for a change.

“Lanterns are pretty tame. I mean what could go wrong, right?”

 

* * *

 

Of course, the meeting with the Foreign Secretary _did_ end up running over into the conference, so by the time Reever managed to get a hold of Komui and take him outside to run through their plans, it was already late in the afternoon.

“I _love_ it,” Komui exclaimed, beaming as he sat down on a stone bench and Reever handed over Johnny’s concept sketches, which had been painted over with watercolours to give a better visual representation of the ideas they had come up with.

“Ah, no not that one,” Reever said quickly, snatching back the picture of fireworks in the skies over HQ. “We decided it would be in everyone’s best interests if that idea never left the drawing room.”

Komui pouted. “What? _Why_? Fireworks are great!”

“Listen, Chief,” Reever began carefully, “I get that you’re trying to make up for things not exactly going as planned last night …”

“Nonsense, it was a minor inconvenience at that.”

“Right,” Reever carried on, not believing him in the slightest, “Well ... you remember your anniversary?”

Komui shook his head. “How could I forget?”

“Remember how the Director was all set to tear you limb from limb when he realized you’d gone and thrown _another_ surprise party without telling him and everyone was invited?”

“I wouldn’t say _everyone_ ,” Komui protested, his brows furrowing together. “You can’t blame me for that anyway! At least not completely. You lot were the ones who went and made a big deal out of it …”

“To save your skin!”

“Neither of us even realized it was our anniversary to begin with until people started reminding us,” Komui added, frowning a little in thought now. “So technically speaking it was really _your_ fault that Bak-chan was even yelling at me in the first place - ”

“ _Anyway_ ,” Reever said loudly, because this was not the time to argue semantics or point fingers, “My point is this. If you put on a big, flashy proposal that anyone who has access to a window in the Eastern Wing can see then it’s going to be like that anniversary party all over again.”

He lowered his voice. “Plus, you and I both know the Director is not the biggest fan of PDA as it is. Who knows what he might do if he feels embarrassed. What if he rejects your proposal?”

Komui’s eyebrows went up.

“...... You make a fair point Section Chief Reever,” he said at last, after what could only be described as horrified silence. “Scrap the fireworks.”

“Noted and scrapped.”

Komui elbowed Reever gently in the side. “See, this is why you’re going to be my best man.”

“If that’s just a fancy way of saying ‘wingman’ I don’t want to hear it,” Reever replied flatly, shooing him away.

Komui grinned and started flipping through the rest of the drawings. “So, what else have we got?”

“We were thinking paper lanterns,” Reever replied, waiting for him to reach the sketch Johnny had painted of a trail of lights snaking through the gardens and circling the fountain. “I mean surely that’s romantic enough, right?”

It didn’t get any less odd, he thought, watching the way the big, goofy grin on the Chief’s face twisted into the more self-deprecating, crooked shape his mouth took when the mask slipped a little.

God, if Reever already felt tired then Komui must have been _exhausted_. He probably hadn’t stopped to think or breathe since he’d got out of bed that morning, and it was really starting to show.

“Lanterns under the light of a full moon, huh?” Komui said quietly. “Kind of makes one think of the Mid-Autumn Festival back in … well, back home. Perhaps I should have saved some of the cakes from last night’s dessert and offered them to Chang'e for luck.”

“Sir…?”

Komui shook his head. “Well I’m a couple of months too late anyhow,” he said with a somewhat wry smile and wouldn’t elaborate any further than that. “So. Why lanterns?”

Reever narrowed his eyes a little but didn’t press the issue. Instead he unscrewed the lid of the thermos he had brought with him from the cafeteria and poured a steaming cup full of fresh coffee for each of them.

“Because Rob thinks you’d lead the Director all over creation just trying to pop the question so we thought we’d better set a path out for you to follow or you’d both be out here till dawn.”

Komui actually laughed at that, taking the proffered cup from Reever gratefully. “Fair enough,” he said amiably, and drank deeply.

“Johnny’s been working on designing the lanterns all day,” Reever added, as Komui continued to sip his coffee and stare at the pictures of watercolour lanterns as though trying to envision them popping off the page, “The guys should be almost done setting them up around the garden if you wanted to have a look?”

“Lead the way,” Komui told him, getting up off the bench and stretching the kinks out of his back.

* * *

They were starting to lose the light, Reever realized as they made they way over to the eastern gardens and the dusky shadows falling over the courtyard started to grow longer. Any other time he would have stressed about it, because it would have made working conditions near impossible, but in this case it only made the sight before him look even better than he had hoped.

Komui actually stopped a ways back from the fountain behind Reever and didn’t make any attempt to move forward. In fact, he glanced around with a slightly mystified expression as though wondering if he had wandered into a completely different part of the grounds by mistake.

“Chief, you made it!” Johnny exclaimed, hurrying down from where he had been carefully placing paper lanterns on the stone steps that led back into the Eastern Wing.

“So? What do you think?” he asked, shuffling his feet and looking both proud and delighted with his handiwork.

“This is incredible,” Komui said sincerely, and Reever was inclined to agree. Instead of twisting the wire frames of the lanterns into the standard circular shape, Johnny had artfully shaped the coloured paper around them into flowers with a single flame burning at the centre.

“It’s _perfect_.”

Johnny flushed with pleasure.

“Rob, Cash and Jiji are still setting them out around the perimeter and pathways,” he told them, pointing out the growing trail of lights in the distance, “but I thought it would be nice to have a whole bunch of them around the fountain and stairs too, you know?”

Komui beamed, grasping at Johnny’s shoulders. “How do you feel about doing design work for weddings?”

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” Reever cut in as Johnny’s mouth fell open a little and he turned a brilliant shade of red, “You haven’t even _asked_ the Director yet.”

“Of course, of course, you’re absolutely right,” Komui replied cheerfully, before leaning in and stage-whispering to a still stammering Johnny, “we can discuss the details later.”

“ _Chief_.”

“Careful Section Chief,” Komui warned lightly, “I’ve told you before, if you keep scowling like that your face is going to get stuck that way one day.”

“You know, I think Rob had a point,” Reever said flatly, “maybe wandering the grounds until the Director snaps and demands to know what’s going on would be a faster route towards married bliss.”

Komui ignored him. “So how is this going to work?” he asked, releasing Johnny and clapping his hands together.

“Oh, well,” Johnny fumbled, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a remote, “I fixed a wireless sensor to the lanterns that should ignite a spark and light the wicks when this button is pressed.”

He pointed out the top button on the remote.

“I also added a sensor that activates a tiny thimble-sized cap on the device,” he went on, showing them the lower button, “Just in case the flames need to be snuffed out, but …”

“Excellent!” Komui exclaimed, taking the remote from Johnny’s hands before he could finish and holding it up to admire it.

“Johnny…?” Reever sighed, prompting him to continue. Johnny adjusted his glasses a little awkwardly and cleared his throat.

“It’s nothing really,” he insisted. “Just a bit of a safety precaution, that’s all. They’ve been having a dry autumn in these parts so the last thing we need is anything catching …”

“Ah!” Komui said, making a small sound of surprise as he pressed the top button on the remote and a beautiful trail of lights suddenly burst into life.

“...fire,” Johnny finished lamely, to the sound of Jiji cursing colourfully in the distance, no doubt as the lantern he had probably been holding had just lit up.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Reever snapped, snatching the remote back from Komui and moving to turn the lanterns back off.

“No wait, leave it!” Komui said hastily, making a grab for the remote. “We still have plenty of time. Think of this as a practice run!”

“ _Practice run_?” Reever repeated incredulously, before narrowing his eyes, “Wait, have you even _told_ Director Bak that you wanted to take him out on another date?”

“ _Well_ ,” Komui dragged the word out slowly, “Sort of? Honestly, today’s schedule has been so tight that at this stage I’m just hoping to catch him after dinner and … let things work themselves out from there?”

“Oh, for the love of …” Reever muttered, and willed himself not to use the remote as a blunt object and beat the other man over the head with it. “Fine! What’s the game plan?”

Komui held out his hand. Reever stared at him.

Komui raised an eyebrow.

“Seriously?” Reever muttered, pulling out the thermos that he had been keeping in the pocket of his lab coat. “What the hell do you think this is, liquid courage?”

Komui took it and unscrewed the lid, downing what was left. Then he threw the thermos into a bush, his eyes alight with renewed determination.

“Hey!”

“I thought we could take a walk like you said,” Komui began, swanning down the pathway that led back to the cloisters where Reever had met with him earlier, “admire the lights as we go, maybe talk a little about … well, I’ll leave that to your imagination,” he said, winking at them.

Johnny, if possible, flushed an even deeper shade of red. Reever rolled his eyes.

“And then!” Komui said dramatically, the lanterns casting jewelled shades of colour on his white uniform as he leapt back towards Reever and dragged him down onto the path with him.

“Oi!” Reever exclaimed, as Komui spun him around and, without any regard for personal space, reached into his other pocket and pulled out the ring box that he had been carrying around all afternoon.

“With ring in hand I will guide Bak-chan to the fountain,” Komui continued, grabbing Reever’s wrist and marching him down the path.

“He’s going to be so impressed he’ll have hearts in his eyes … I said _impressed_ ,” he emphasized as Reever glared at him, looking anything but.

“I don’t know,” Reever remarked, giving in and letting Komui sit him down so hard on the lip of the fountain that it felt like his ass was going to bruise later. “I think I do a pretty realistic impression, don’t you? Speaking of which, why the hell do _I_ have to play the Director in this farce?”

“ _Because_ ,” Komui told him without actually explaining anything, “Of course, after that I will tell him how beautiful and amazing and clever he is …”

“Are you planning on swelling his head so he won’t be able to get back through the doors and escape?”

“You’re a terrible Bak-chan,” Komui scolded. “See, this is why we’re not getting married for real.”

“Sorry, did you want me to grumble about your work ethic and how you ought to be chained to your desk?” Reever replied flatly, “Because I can do that. Heck, I wouldn’t even have to act.”

“You know I take it all back,” Komui said, sitting back on his heels and giving him a very disappointed pout, “You’re an awful actor. The worst. The Theatre Royal will never have you.”

“They’d probably take a big ham like you though,” Reever shot back, leaning forward a little to rub his sore tailbone.

He frowned at Komui. “In all seriousness though, Chief. I know you’re trying to do things right this time, but maybe you shouldn’t beat around the bush with a big speech either.”

“ _What_? Why not?”

“I’m just saying,” Reever muttered, “You already went down that route yesterday and it was a disaster. Maybe you should just cut to the quick.”

Komui stared. “You mean just sit him down and… tell him?” he wondered aloud, as though the very idea was somehow _worse_ than everything else they had planned so far.

“Exactly,” Reever confirmed. “It’ll be like ripping off a bandage!”

Komui made a face at that. “He’ll think I’m making fun of him!” he protested.

“You’re _always_ making fun of him,” Reever countered, “And don’t look at me like that, you _do_. I know it’s all in good fun and the Director can obviously take it or he would have dumped you ages ago, but … think about it okay?”

“Just _try_ and get to the point. Forget the bells and whistles and the undying declarations of love. That might surprise him more than anything.”

Komui was quiet for a long moment, in which the sounds of the rush of water pouring from the fountain, the crackling of flames and Johnny shuffling his feet awkwardly in the background seemed to magnify.

“I’ll consider it,” he murmured at last, though he still did not look convinced of Reever’s advice. “Still,” he added, bouncing back, “I think we should continue practicing for luck!”

Well, Reever thought to himself, they would work things out either way no matter how the proposal itself went down, the same way they had worked out everything else during the ups and downs of their sometimes exhausting relationship.

“Fine,” he said, “but I don’t want you professing your eternal love to me with those doe eyes, all right? I’m already breaking out into a cold sweat just thinking about it.”

Komui grinned. “But ‘Bak-chan’, if you marry me you can do all the paperwork for both of us for the rest of our lives,” he simpered, putting a hand on Reever’s knee.

Reever shuddered. “Well that was _definitely_ a lot less saccharine than I was expecting,” he admitted, “but I hope you’re not opening with that line either.”

“You worry too much,” Komui said easily, “I think we definitely have something here. I mean the mood is perfect, the backdrop is romantic, all that’s really left to do is wait for the opportune moment to say - ”

“ _Hit the deck_!” Jiji screamed, suddenly bolting down the path towards them at such speed that Reever jerked to his feet like he had just been electrocuted.

Komui nodded. “Exactly. Hit the … wait, _what_?” he repeated incredulously, though his confusion had barely registered when there was a sound like a thunderclap and one of the hedges in the background exploded outward in a shower of twigs, leaves and flaming debris. 

 

* * *

 

Bak was grateful. It was a welcome change to be able to come to HQ and not have to run around setting things to rights because a certain _someone_ had gone and fooled around in the labs again.

He had been entirely prepared to face down another mad scheme (and wasn’t it just _sad_ that he had started to look upon such things in his life as normal to the point he actually formulated _plans_ on how to deal with them) so to be invited on a _date_ had almost thrown him.

He had said it before and he would say it again; they didn’t do dates. Dates were something that happened to other people. That wasn’t to say Bak had never been on a date before, just that there was something inherently odd about going on a date with Komui Lee.

They had spent _time_ together yes, long hours in the labs and the library and more often than not in the office after everyone else had gone to bed, but he had never imagined their relationship being of the sort where the idea of a dating was even _contemplated_ , let alone acted upon.

It had been … nice, Bak thought with wonderment, an emotion he couldn’t identify whirlwinding like so many carrion crows trying to pick his flesh apart from the inside out when he had sat up in bed that morning, his hair sticking up like a dandelion and Komui’s nose pressed against the jut of his hip.

“It’s butterflies, Bak-chan,” Komui had mumbled sleepily, when Bak had jerked his shoulder and told him he was going to be late for work and also that he might throw up on him if the birds inside him didn’t stop _circling_ , “they’re called butterflies, for God’s sake. Who gets _carrion crows_ in their stomach?”

But they were not butterflies, Bak thought later, when they had dressed and Komui had kissed him like they would not be seeing each other for _months_ instead of a day and they had gone back to their respective jobs. Something _was_ eating away at him but at all the dark, negative spaces in his core, leaving nothing but warmth and light.

“You’re smiling,” Louis Fermi noted curiously, when Bak had taken his seat at the conference table later that day, as though it were the oddest thing he had seen all year. “Did someone die?”

“I think the world might be ending sooner than we thought,” Renee Epstein said lightly, her full lips curled upwards in a slight smirk, “I’d look outside the window if I were you, Louis. I fancy the seas are running with blood and the sky will be going dark any second now.”

“Shut up,” Bak hissed, scowling at both of them, but their teasing did not bother him as much as he thought it would. It was like the good feeling inside him was cancelling out everything else, and he prayed that whenever Komui showed up he would not turn and _beam_ at him like Bak had personally hung the stars in the goddamn sky. He could not deal with that today. His heart might actually try to punch its way out of his ribcage and then where would they be?

As it turned out Komui did not even have the chance to look at him. He had arrived at the conference about an hour after it had already started, fresh out of another meeting with the Foreign Secretary and the Diplomacy Department, and looking as though he would like nothing better but to sleep for a year.

Bak could sympathise with that at least.

Still, he could not ignore to the niggling feeling that _something_ was going on. A nervous sort of energy had been thrumming around Komui like an aura since yesterday, though Bak doubted that he had even noticed. The man was a pretty good actor, there was no doubt about that, but whatever skill he had in the art of lying seemed to diminish extraordinarily when he was anxious about something.

And Komui was _definitely_ anxious about something, Bak realized, because the nervous energy around him seemed far more pronounced than it had been yesterday. He seemed to be running the conference with an air of impatience, though he was diplomatic enough to not hurry the presentations along more than necessary.

He hadn’t been like this at dinner, Bak thought, frowning a little now. Overly dramatic and embarrassingly romantic perhaps, but not _manic_. Perhaps he had more paperwork due that evening and had yet to get on with it, like Bak had warned him he might yesterday, but surely that wasn’t it either. He had never known Komui to _panic_ over paperwork in all the years he had known him. That was usually Reever’s job.

Apprehension suddenly pooled inside his chest. Last night’s date might have been just that, a _date_ , but Komui Lee never did anything in small measures. He certainly lamented over the phone often enough to Bak when he was in China that even with the Ark in place they _still_ hardly got to spend time together because of _work_.

If that was the case, then what _else_ was he planning to do while Bak was in England?

He had already been shot at, used as a guinea pig, participated in a deranged obstacle course and been made a fool of at every instance he had visited HQ in the past _year_ , and even now he felt like he was sometimes still taking a risk just turning up and showing his face.

_Was he working on another experiment?_ Bak wondered, worrying his thumbnail between his teeth as he narrowed his eyes in Komui’s direction. That would certainly explain why he had been deflecting all of Bak’s questions on what he was up to and assuring him that nothing was amiss. Was it all part of some elaborate ruse?

Bak frowned harder at that, and tried to catch Komui’s eye, hoping that maybe if he glared at him long enough, the truth would become apparent on his face. But Komui did not look at him long enough for such a thing to be possible, and whenever he glanced Bak’s way he just _smiled_ in that irritatingly reassuring way that was meant to convey to him that everything was going to be _fine_.

When Komui smiled like that it usually meant things were going to be the opposite of fine _first_ before they got better, though the odd little bubble of warmth inside Bak was, against his common sense, fighting him on this.

He was being judgemental and paranoid. That was his gut’s stance on the matter. Last night had proven that things could be better between them. That they could spend a prolonged period of time together _outside_ of work and not have any good feelings between them destroyed by topics like whatever the hell had addled his brain and convinced Bak he had a ‘crush’ on Lenalee in the first place, corporate ladder-climbing within the ranks and who better deserved to be Head Officer.

_‘I love you,’_ whispered a voice in Bak’s head that reminded him of warm hands and kind smiles and the feeling of being _enough_. He squeezed his eyes shut.

A penchant for troublemaking aside, Komui had only ever done right by the people he cared about. If Bak could trust him on a professional level then surely he could stand to trust him a little more when it came to personal matters. What kind of relationship could they hope to have if he couldn’t even do that?

Bak pressed his lips together and took a breath. Then he ducked his head to focus on the papers he had spread out in front of him.

_Water under the bridge_ , he thought desperately and worked at putting the matter out of his mind for the rest of the afternoon.

It didn’t work per se, because the moment the conference had drawn to an end Komui had leapt up from his seat like he had been waiting for this exact moment since they had _started_ and made a brief closing speech before bowing his way out of the room and taking off at a speed that suggested he was going to bolt down the corridor the minute he was out the door.

“Wait!” Bak hissed, standing up as well and gathering his paperwork to his chest as fast as he could carry it, staunchly pretending not to notice the way Renee’s smirk widened.

He had no doubts that she _knew_ something was going on between them, in the way that someone who has known you for most of your life tended to know things simply by looking at you, but she had yet to do more than pass the occasional comment on Bak’s recent emotional state and in his own way he was grateful for it. He barely knew how to describe their relationship himself sometimes.

“ _Wait_!” Bak said again, louder this time, and people gave him a wide berth as he passed, eager to not get caught up in what they thought would be a heated debate between the two of them. It wouldn’t have been the first time.

“Bak-chan?” Komui sounded surprised, coming to a halt at the top of the stairs just as Bak slammed the door shut behind him. “Is everything all right?”

“You tell me!” Bak said, crushing down the tremulous pounding of his heart when Komui’s expression turned concerned and a comforting hand cupped the back of his neck.

_I love you_.

_No_ , he thought fiercely, gritting his teeth and pushing Komui’s hand away, who looked alarmed to suddenly be on the receiving end of such ire. _Stop focusing on that. He can shout it from the rooftops for all I care. Be rational. Think logically about what’s happening or you’re going to get caught up in one of his silly games again_.

Bak exhaled heavily, blowing hair out of his eyes. “What’s going on?”

Komui raised his eyebrows. “What do you mean?” he asked, baffled.

Bak glared at him. “ _Don’t_ ,” he said sharply, “Don’t you even try that with me. You’ve been antsy since yesterday and I want to know _why_. What are you hiding?”

“I’m not hiding anything!” Komui protested, glancing off down the stairwell as though time would get away from him altogether if he didn’t leave soon.

“Don’t lie!” Bak snapped, “If I know you, and I _do_ , that dinner wasn’t the end of it.”

“Of _course_ that’s not the end of it,” Komui exclaimed, looking a little offended now.

Bak stared at him, his building temper suddenly thrown off track. He hadn’t actually been expecting him to _admit_ to anything.

“It’s not…?” he said instead, and hated how lost and unsure he sounded.

Komui made an discontented sound. “Bak-chan,” he said firmly, cupping the back of Bak’s neck again and rubbing his thumb gently under his ear, “Did you really think I was just going to take you out on _one_ date?”

“One…” Bak repeated, his own eyebrows shooting up. “You mean …”

Komui _smiled_ , and there it was, the way he looked at you like you were heaven and earth and everything in between. Bak swallowed hard, his heart suddenly in his mouth.

“I hope you don’t have any other plans,” Komui said gently, leaning over so he could nudge their foreheads together, “since I would really like to spend the whole weekend with you if I can.”

“I …” Bak started, colour rising in his cheeks as the warmth in his core started swelling and rising like a hot air balloon. “No, I didn't … that's not the…”

“I have to speak to Reever about an important project we’re putting together right now,” Komui continued, tilting his head up a little so he could press his mouth to the bridge of Bak’s nose, “but let's do something together later, okay?”

“ _Komui_ ,” Bak said again, sounding wretched, because that wasn’t an answer, it _wasn’t_ , but if it was true, and they were really going to spend the rest of the weekend like … well, like a couple and not like two people who occasionally fell into bed together because they had just grown so _used_ to each other’s company, then …

… he wanted to try it.

“Okay,” Bak whispered, utterly mortified with himself, even as Komui turned his head a little and kissed him, firm and full of promise.

The little bubble in his chest fluttered.

So much for being rational.

 

* * *

 

He ended up back in the Camellia Room.

He hadn’t meant to, of course, had just started pacing up and down any hallway that had looked empty enough that he could brood in peace and ended up in front of a familiar looking door just as it was starting to get dark.

There had been no one around when he peeked inside, though the walls and floors were tinted a deep orange hue from the last rays of the sun. The balcony was bare now, as though a romantic evening dinner had never taken place there the night before, and Bak would have shut the door and left had a familiar-looking vase not caught his eye.

It had been placed on the coffee table in the corner lounge near the large arched windows, and filled once again with a cheery display of camellias, bold and bright and irritating. And so Bak had slipped into the room and stalked over, furious enough that he had half a mind to take the offending vase in hand and lob it over the balcony if he thought it would make him feel better.

Instead he cupped his own hand to his chest, fingers tightening in the fabric of his uniform as he thought about the way Komui had held it last night, and all the different emotions that had passed across his face as he had confessed, as he had _apologized_ , and how he had looked at Bak like he would have said _anything_ if he could only get him to _stay_.

_I don’t like this_ , hissed the logical side of his brain, the part that had always had to _fight_ for dominance, because if Bak had any weakness it was this, being too headstrong, and letting his emotions run away from him. _He’s playing you_.

“He’s not,” Bak said aloud, his voice echoing across the walls as he paced in front of the coffee table, trying to piece this puzzle together. “It was just a date. He even wheeled out a _phonograph_ , for God’s sake.”

_He wants to do it a second time_.

“It was nice,” Bak murmured, reiterating his thoughts from that morning, and was amazed at how surprised he sounded to his own ears. “I wouldn’t mind.”

_Until the trapdoor opens up under your feet again_.

“That’s _not_ going to happen,” Bak snapped, wringing his hands as he sat down on the couch and glared at the vase of camellias. “This isn’t that kind of game! What would he even get out of it?”

_A good laugh and the chance to knock you down a couple of pegs_ , the voice drolled, and Bak dug his nails into the upholstery. _Isn’t that what he did at your so-called birthday party just last year?_

Bak ran his hand over his face and rubbed his eyes tiredly. “I … may have deserved that,” he said quietly, thinking about all the plans he had concocted to try and force as much truth serum tea down Komui’s throat as he could. He coughed into his fist.

_Even so. You know he’s the type to be vengeful_.

“For what?” Bak exclaimed incredulously. “I haven’t done anything! … At least not recently. Besides,” he said firmly, glaring even harder at the camellias now as though they would give him some sort of sign that he was on the right track, “We both apologized. It’s _fine_. He…” he hesitated.

“He loves me.”

_And you still don’t believe him_ , the voice whispered, like poison in his ear, _because you’re smarter than that. You know he’s going to hurt you again._  

The bubble in his chest trembled, threatening to burst. Bak pressed his lips together into a thin line.

“I doubt we’re ever going to stop arguing,” he said lowly, lifting his head a little to stare at the wall. “So yes, he might.”

_It’s just a date_ , his gut told him, still twisted up in warm, hopeful knots as it had been all day, its voice distinctly louder and far more willing to forgive than his mind. _It’s not going to kill you. How much longer do you plan on sabotaging your own happiness just because you’re afraid?_

“I’m _not_ afraid,” Bak said loudly, sitting up straighter and tilting his chin stubbornly, “We are going on a date and it’s going to be fucking _magical_.”

The camellias on the table said nothing to that, and the faint sound of rushing water bubbling up from the fountain in the grounds below filled the silence. Bak flushed.

“What the hell is wrong with me...?” he muttered, putting his elbows on his knees and steepling his fingers together in front of his face.

“The fact that you’re talking to yourself or just in general?”

Bak leapt to his feet, turning around so fast it was a wonder he didn’t trip backwards over the coffee table.

“I mean there’s nothing wrong with a good monologue,” Lavi continued, hanging over the back of the couch with his chin propped in his hand, “but the shouting is a bit much, don’t you think?”

“Bookman Junior,” Bak hissed, shame rising hot and fast to his cheeks. “How long have you been standing there?”

Lavi _grinned_. It was the sort of ‘everything-you-say-can-and-will-be-recorded-for-posterity’ grin that Bookmen tended to get on their faces when something curious was going down and they wanted to know _all about it_ , but at least the older one kind of just squinted at you and carried on about his business.

“Just Lavi is fine,” he said and leaned even further over the couch, “though it sounds like you’re having a bit of a crisis. Want to talk about it?”

Bak scowled. The last thing he needed right now was to have baseless rumours circling Headquarters. “Apart from telling you that it’s none of your business, _no._  Now answer the damn question.”

Lavi shrugged, slithering off the back of the couch and moving around the side so he could throw himself down on the cushions instead.

“Hey now, no need to get snappy,” he said lightly, lifting his hands up a little in surrender, “I got back from a mission a few hours ago, you know? Just happened to be on my way from the library to get dinner when I heard the caterwauling.”

“So,” he added, crossing his legs and fixing Bak with a delighted, eager smile that he didn’t trust in the _least_ , “Love trouble, huh?”

“ _Love_ …” Bak spluttered, and then crossed his arms over his chest defensively, “What do you know about love? You’ve just barely tottered into adulthood!”

“ _Wow_ ,” Lavi said, leaning back into the couch and pressing a hand to his heart, “First of all, that hurts. I know _lots_ of things about love.” He tapped the corner of his temple lazily. “Courtly love, unrequited love, platonic love … I think I’ve got an entire archive’s worth of sonnets up here if you need help in _that_ department.”

“That … won’t be necessary,” Bak replied, gritting his teeth and wondering what he did to deserve this.

“Only Lenalee seemed to think you’d need all the help you can get,” Lavi continued, making shapes with his hands that Bak could not decipher but recognized as _obscene_ , “I mean this little thing you’ve got going on with Komui … how many years has it been now?”

“How many …?” Bak started, his eyebrows shooting up in alarm. “How do _you_ know about that?”

Lavi frowned a little at that, and made a sympathetic noise. “Boy, you really think you’re subtle don’tcha?” he said, and shook his head. “I mean I know it’s my job to be observant and all but I didn’t even really have to _try_ in this case.”

“Wonderful,” Bak said flatly, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Fantastic. Does anyone _else_ know?”

“Oh, loads of people,” Lavi replied easily, “I think there may even be a serialized work of fiction based on your relationship making the rounds in a number of circles? I don’t know the details of course,” he noted, when a look of horror briefly crossed Bak’s face, “but I could probably get you a copy if you’re interested.”

“Oh my _God_ ,” Bak groaned, his face in his hands as he collapsed into one of the armchairs across from the couch.  

“Lena’s your number one supporter, but I suspect you already knew that,” Lavi went on, ticking off his fingers, “Yuu _definitely_ knows because he spends so much time pretending otherwise, and Allen’s still not sure what to make of it, bless him, but then he’s only been here a year.”

“What are you getting at?” Bak demanded, glaring at Lavi from between his fingers.

“Nothing,” Lavi told him innocently, slouching further into the couch as he made himself more comfortable, “just doing a favour for a friend. Well, to be fair I was the only one she _could_ ask really … given that Allen is also away and Yuu would sooner throw himself into the ocean than have anything to do with this.”

“And what is _this_ exactly?” Bak wanted to know, narrowing his eyes and trying to ignore the triumphant little voice in his head that was going _I told you so_.

“Just keeping an _eye_ on you and your easily excitable datefriend while Lenalee’s away for the weekend,” Lavi replied, tapping said eye and grinning with such cheek that Bak shot him a disgusted look. “Making sure you stay out of trouble and all that.”

“We don’t need to be _chaperoned_ ,” Bak growled, feeling a telltale prickling starting to itch at his skin. He swallowed down the feeling of discomfort. “Least of all by a _child_.”

Lavi laughed. “Oh, it’s not going to be as bad as all that,” he assured him, as though Bak hadn’t just insulted his age. “I’m just meant to check in with you every evening, that’s all. See how everything’s going. Which reminds me actually … has he asked you yet?”

“Asked _what_?” Bak exclaimed, feeling more out of his depth the longer this conversation went on and not liking it in the _least_.

Lavi gave him a long, searching look, as though he were a butterfly pinned to a card. Then he relented, shoulders relaxing.

“Well that answers that question,” he said, scratching his nose and smiling lopsidedly. He leaned forward towards Bak then, arms resting on his thighs.

“So~ Got any plans for tonight then?”

“Why do you care?” Bak replied shortly, both his tone and expression suggesting that whatever reins he had on his temper were starting to wear thin. “Planning to hide in the bushes and record every last, sordid detail?”

“That’s not a bad idea actually,’ Lavi mused, as though he _wanted_ to get a rise out of him, “You seem keen enough though, and Komui is obviously _mad_ about you. Which is why I still don’t understand what all the yelling was about.”

“Because he’s _hiding_ something,” Bak snapped, standing up and looking down his nose at Lavi with teeth bared, “and I’m going to find out what it is even if I have to _drag_ it out of him!”

And then the ground _shook_ , a thunderous sound like an entire keg of black powder exploding roaring in their ears, and Bak braced himself as the windows and furniture _rattled_ , the vase of camellias skittering off the coffee table until it hit the floor with a crash.  

 

[He looked up as thick, black plumes of smoke and embers started rising into the sky, tension coiling around his lungs like a vice.](http://i.imgur.com/I2VdC7z.png)

_Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice…_

“Man,” said Lavi, who had fallen sideways off the couch and was only just getting to his feet, his smile a little more grim and his hand on his Hammer, “Remind me never to get on your bad side.”

Bak didn’t even grace that quip with a response. He just turned on his heel and started marching towards the doors. He could already hear people shouting with increasing panic on the floors below them.

“Hey! Where do you think you’re going?” Lavi demanded.

“To get to the bottom of this.”

“Seriously? What if it’s another attack on HQ?”

“It had better be, for his sake,” Bak said dangerously as he threw the doors open and stalked down the corridor, Lavi following him at a jog.

 

* * *

 

“Okay, let’s try this again from the top. _What the_ _fuck actually happened_?” Reever shouted, trying to make himself heard over the sound of the Order guardsmen clamouring around them with hoses and water barrels, and the hot crackling noise of flames burning through the vegetation faster than any of them could blink.

“Well, you remember how this courtyard was used for Guy Fawkes’ Night a couple of weeks back?” Rob shouted back, his hair mussed up with leaves and twigs. “And how some of the effigies didn’t get burned because of, er … political reasons?”

Reever thought back to the description of the so-called Leverrier effigy that had apparently made its début on that night and slapped a hand over his eyes.

“Don’t tell me…?”

“Well the good news is we found one of the effigies,” Rob told him, coughing a little as he waved thick, hot air out of his face.

“The bad news is that it was stuffed with enough black powder to put the merchant navy’s guns to shame,” said Jiji, who looked far more ashen and singed than the rest of them, his dreads stinking with the acrid smell of burnt hair and Cash supporting his weight under her arm.

“If anyone ever tells you a hedge isn’t an excellent hiding spot,” she told Reever flatly, “they’re lying.”

“And now the eastern gardens are on fire,” Jiji added helpfully.

“...... and now the eastern gardens are _on fucking fire_ ,” Reever groaned, throwing his hands up in defeat. “Is there some kind of ‘Kick Me’ sign associated with our Department that makes this shit happen to us more than _everyone else_? I have had it just about up to _here_ with - ”

“I’m sorry,” Johnny whispered suddenly, soot blackening the lenses of his glasses and making him look even _more_ miserable. “This is all my fault. If I hadn’t built wireless lighters into those lanterns we would have taken more time to set them up properly and we would have _noticed_ that there were…”

“Stop right there,” Reever told him, putting a hand on Johnny’s shoulder and looking him in the eye. “This is not our fault, and it’s sure as hell not _yours_. The groundskeepers should have done a better job cleaning up after the courtyard was used last time.”

“If I ever find out who organized that last event I might set _them_ on fire,” Jiji muttered darkly, wincing a little as Cash sat him down on the stone steps that led up into the Eastern Wing.

Onlookers were already pouring onto the balconies at all levels at the building, their murmuring voices adding to the cacophony of sound that was already making Reever’s ears ring. Even _more_ people were rushing out of the doors with buckets and containers and wet cloths to assist the guards with containing the fire before it jumped and spread to the rest of the grounds.

Reever could see the Head Nurse in the corner of the ground floor balcony already directing her staff to prepare salves and gauze and face masks for burns and smoke inhalation. She did _not_ look happy.

And if that wasn’t bad enough, the beautiful, flower-shaped lanterns had shriveled into blackened frames of twisted wire, burned beyond recognition. Johnny trembled.

Reever squeezed his shoulder. Clouds of smoke were rising into the darkening sky, illuminated in harsh shades of red. He gritted his teeth. What a _disaster_.

“Do you think it was one of the Noah?” someone whispered, very near to Reever’s right. He glanced over his shoulder curiously.

“Don’t be stupid Matthew,” said Section Chief Peck, who was holding a handkerchief to his nose to stop his eyes watering and squinting at the flames as though they were more of a _bother_ than potentially life-threatening.

“Why on earth would the Earl want to burn down a _garden_?”

“Perhaps one of the gas lamps broke,” Section Chief Barrows commented, adjusting his glasses and grimacing. “I think we ought to write back to Central with our feedback. Headquarters is _obviously_ still understaffed if something like this went on unnoticed without being fixed.”

“Gas lamps break all the time,” Peck said irritably, “but you don’t see them exploding up and down the streets in London, do you? No, no I think this was something else.”

“Such as…?” Barrows deadpanned, clearly not in the mood to listen to him rant.

“Well, let’s look at our suspects who were already at the scene of the crime, shall we?” Peck replied, having sensed Reever staring at them and looking right back at him accusingly.

“Everyone already _knows_ the kind of reputation that HQ’s Science Department has had ever since Chief Lee became Head Officer, and I’m not saying that as a compliment either …”

“ _Hey_!” snapped Jiji, who had been listening in to their conversation just as long as Reever had, and was now trying to wobble to his feet by holding onto the fistfuls of Cash’s lab coat so he could go over and give them all a piece of his mind.

“That’s enough trash talk out of you, you slimy, poncey little - ”

Peck just raised his eyebrows. “I mean just _look_ at him,” we went on to Barrows as though he had not been interrupted, “Setting the gardens alight and now splashing around in the fountain like that? The man’s clearly not got his head screwed on right.”

“Your own head’s gonna be spinning pretty soon if you don’t shut your trap!” Jiji said loudly, as Reever whipped around to look back at the fountain in surprise.

He hadn’t taken notice before, too caught up in directing the guards on how to put out the flames and in hauling their own asses out of the blast zone to realize that Komui had been suspiciously silent.

What was even harder to believe was that Peck was _right_. Komui had climbed into the fountain and was nearly bent over in half with both forearms and knees deep in the water.

There was a look of clear _panic_ on his face that Reever had so rarely seen in the man, who like the rest of them, was filthy with ash and soot from the fire, but also _soaked_ to the point that duckweed and algae were clinging stubbornly to his uniform every time he moved.

“ _Chief_!” Reever called out, rushing back down the steps towards the fountain. “What are you _doing_? It’s not safe here.”

“Just give me a minute!” Komui shouted back, glancing up only long enough for Reever to see the wildness in his eyes before he dropped back down again, weeds sloshing everywhere as he ran his hands across the base of the pool, fountain water bearing down on his shoulders.

“ _Why_?”

“I dropped the ring!” Komui told him, grabbing fistfuls of coins and throwing them aside, where they plinked against the sides of the fountain and started skittering across the courtyard.

“You’re kidding,” Reever exclaimed, “How did that happen?”

“Does it _matter_?” Komui demanded, looking more and more distraught as coins and trinkets slipped through his fingers and back into the water. “That was the _real_ ring. I can’t lose the real ring! What if it goes down the drain? What if someone takes it?”

“Chief, it’s _fine_ ,” Reever told him, trying to sound soothing despite the fact that the fire was so hot this close that he could feel the wind burning his face. He stuck one foot over the side and held his hand out to Komui.

“Does it look like anyone’s going to be foraging in the fountain tonight? _No_. So get _out_ of there. We can look for the ring later!”

“That’s not going to work!” Komui said desperately, looking up into the sky, but the full moon had been obscured by smoke, “I have to do this _tonight_. We have … we have a _date_. I _promised_. I can’t just …”

“You can’t _what_ …?” a familiar voice suddenly wanted to know, and Reever watched in alarm as Komui froze in the water, as though his limbs had suddenly turned to ice. He turned his head.

And there was Bak Chang, illuminated in the backlight at the top of the stone steps, his chest heaving slightly as though he had run all the way here, and looking angrier than Reever had ever seen him.

Oh, _Christ_.

“What have you _done_?” Bak asked, the firelight catching in his blond hair and making it look gold as he cast his eyes out over the burning garden in complete disbelief. His voice was hoarse, barely steady, as though it were taking all his willpower not to yell.

God, Reever hoped he wouldn’t _yell_.

“Are you _insane_?” Bak continued, hopping down the steps two at a time and making straight for the fountain without any care or worry that it was only taking him _closer_ to the flames, while Komui continued to stare at him as though someone had just reached in and ripped his tongue from his mouth. He shook his head mutely.

“What is … what is even the point of all this? Was this the important project you were talking about?” Bak whispered, coming to a halt next to Reever and gesturing out at the destruction all around them.

His expression darkened. “Can you seriously not even hold it in for _one fucking weekend_?” he exclaimed, his voice suddenly rising so sharply that both Reever and Komui cringed.

“Do you just … do you just have some kind of incurable urge to cause chaos whenever it gets too peaceful? Was the conference going too smoothly for you? _Is that why half of the eastern gardens are burning to the fucking ground_?”

“ _No_!” Komui burst out, raising his voice to make himself heard before Bak built up a full head of steam. “No, of course not … I would never, Bak-chan _please_. This isn’t what you think.”

“Come on you two, let’s just take it easy okay?” Lavi said carefully, suddenly popping up behind Reever and nearly giving him a heart attack. He took his Hammer out of its holster on his leg and spun it around his fingers. “This is totally fixable. I can activate my Innocence, put out this fire, and then we can all head down to dinner like nothing …”

“You stay out of this!” Bak snapped, before turning back to scowl at Komui. “I’m not finished with him yet.”

“It isn’t the Chief’s fault!” Johnny said hotly, and would have descended down the steps himself had Reever not shot him a glare that clearly told him to _stay put_. So instead he balled his fists and scowled at Bak, practically shaking with emotion. “You can’t blame him for the fire!”

“Johnny…” Reever warned, making a ‘cutthroat’ motion with his hand across his own neck while Bak’s attention was elsewhere.

“He only did all of this because of _you_!”

“ _Johnny_ , that’s enough!” Reever barked, but it was too late.

It was the wrong thing to say.

Bak stopped, all emotion suddenly wiped from his face. Then he squared his shoulders and whirled on Komui, as though a thunderstorm was building up inside of him.

“Is that true…?” he asked Komui.

Komui looked at him desperately, wading a little closer towards the edge of the fountain, his hand outstretched towards Bak like a peace offering. “Bak-chan, I swear to you, I …”

“ _Is that true_?” Bak hissed, his voice nearly cracking with the strain of holding his temper in check.

Komui bit the inside of his cheek so hard that it looked like he might draw blood.

“It’s true,” he said at last, so quietly that his words almost got lost in the background noise altogether. “It’s one hundred percent the truth, but I need you to just _listen_. I know what you must be thinking and this isn’t…”

“What?” Bak said again, “Not what it looks like? Well, that’s probably because it backfired didn’t it? Because your mad schemes _always_ backfire. First it was the hair tonic, then it was the zombies, and then it was the …” he paused then, realization dawning on him.

“It happened at the dinner yesterday too, didn’t it?” he said quietly. “ _That’s_ why you’ve been so jumpy.”

Komui’s eyes darted shiftily to the rippling surface of the water at that, searching for a ring he couldn’t see. “I wasn’t…”

“Oh my God,” Bak muttered, raking his hand back agitatedly through his hair as he started to pace up and down in the front of the fountain. “Oh my _God_ , I was wondering why you were so worked up about that cake. You were planning something.”

He looked up, grey eyes fixed on Komui’s face with such incredulity that for a moment the world itself seemed to hold its breath.

“And I almost _fell_ for it!”

“ _What_?” Komui exclaimed, his mouth dropping open a little.

“Director Bak, that’s a little …” Lavi began, but was thoroughly ignored. Reever shook his head at that.

He should step in, he thought, smooth things out for the Chief before the Director got the _completely_ wrong idea, but he still felt uneasy and he wasn’t sure _why_.

“Water under the bridge, my ass!” Bak shouted, absolutely livid now. “I should have expected something was going to happen the moment you started being so sweet and attentive and telling me how much you…” he stopped then, pressing his lips together in a thin white line.

“You’re a liar,” he said at last, voice completely devoid of emotion, “You always have been. I can’t believe I thought that you and I could actually … that we were actually…”

He shook his head. “... So? Out with it then. What’s the punchline this time?”

“There _is_ no punchline!” Komui told him, reaching out the hand he had outstretched and grabbing a hold of Bak’s wrist, looking almost hysterical in his desperation now.

“Bak-chan, please, there’s _so much_ I want to tell you, but not like this. Last night was perfect, _you_ were perfect, and I should have told you then but I _couldn’t_. I couldn’t and I’m sorry and I just need you to trust that I’m not trying to make a fool out of you.”

Bak hesitated. “We need to talk,” he told Komui seriously, his mouth pulled into a grimace. “Not a date. Just … talk.”

“Talk,” Komui repeated, water and algae making his fingers slippery as they tightened around Bak’s wrist. “Right. Okay.”

Reever let out the sigh of relief he had been holding in, and in that same moment realized why he had been feeling so uncomfortable. He frowned and sniffed the air again.

_Gunpowder._

....Rob said there had been _three_ effigies that hadn’t been burned. Two had already been set alight elsewhere in the gardens. That meant ... 

Reever’s eyes widened and he half-turned, looking at the merrily burning hedge just behind the fountain and the suspicious-looking black lump hidden between what was left of its branches.

“Chief, get down.”

“What?” Komui said, tearing his eyes away from Bak long enough to raise his eyebrows at Reever, who vaulted into the fountain next to him.

“ _G_ _et down_!” Reever yelled, grabbing at Bak’s other wrist and putting his free hand on Komui’s shoulder. He pulled, then he _pushed_ , and somehow managed to drag both of them underwater just as another explosion ripped through the air, a tremoring flash of heat and muffled sound passing over the rippling surface of the water.

Reever raised his head, gulping air into his lungs and shaking the wet of his face. People were screaming, retreating even further back towards the safety of the building as twigs and burning leaves rained down upon them. He looked up.

The marble fountain had been scorched black on one side, but it was still standing. The same couldn’t be said about the hedge though.

“This is why I keep saying you should let me take _care_ of this!” Lavi exclaimed, peeking around the face of his Hammer as it shrunk back down to a more reasonable size. The ground on either side of him was still crackling from the heat of the explosion, but Reever noted that everyone standing behind him had been spared the force of the blow by his Innocence and were only looking a little shell-shocked rather than seriously hurt.

“I’m not waiting around any longer,” he told Reever, swinging his Hammer over his shoulder and heading down the path that led deeper into the gardens. “Just get everyone to hang tight okay? I’ll have this blaze out in an hour.”

And then he was gone, a throng of guardsmen and other volunteers hurrying after him with their supplies.

Then Komui broke the surface, splashing water over the side of the fountain all over the tiles as he clutched at the marble, coughing heavily.

“Chief!” Reever hurried over and pulled him into a more upright position. “Are you okay?”

“Fine,” Komui rasped, pushing his damp hair aside as water dripped from his glasses. Then he paused, his expression dismayed.

“ _Bak-chan_.”

“Chief, wait!” Reever called out, but Komui had already turned and was pushing debris and lily pads aside frantically. Then he dove back under, only surfacing again when he had a familiar looking sleeve in his hand.

Reever scrambled around his other side and dropped down, hooking his hands under Bak’s arms and heaving.

He came up choking, covered in duckweed and vomiting water in great, heaving gasps. Blood was dripping in slow rivulets down his face.

It was only then that Reever realized that Bak had cracked his head against the stone when he had been pulled into the fountain and the reason he hadn’t come up for air when they did was because he had probably blacked out.

“Director Bak,” he said, shaking Bak as gently as he dared, guilt sitting like a stone in his chest. “Director Bak, are you all right?”

“Bak-chan!” Komui whispered, sounding utterly distressed as he pushed Bak’s hair out of his face and cupped his cheeks in his hands. “Bak-chan, please, say something!”

_Crack_.

Reever looked up in alarm at Komui, whose face was turned slightly to the side, eyes wide behind his crooked glasses because Bak had just slapped him hard across the face.

“Get away from me,” Bak hissed, wobbling to his feet and pushing Reever’s hands off him. He stumbled against the fountain, putting his hand against the lowest-tiered basin to steady himself, massaging his throat, blood making his blond hair brown and sticky.

“I’m sorry,” Komui said tremulously, reaching for Bak’s hand, and when Reever stepped back to give them space he almost put his face in his hands at the irony of it all.

Because Komui was in perfect proposal position despite being half-submerged in the water, and yet Bak had never looked further from wanting to be anywhere near him.

“Get _off_ ,” Bak growled, sounding even more dangerous now, and trying to wring his hand from Komui’s grasp.

“I’m _sorry_!” Komui said again, despair so evident on his face that Reever had to look away. “I’m so sorry, Bak-chan … I never. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. Let’s just talk it out, okay? Like you wanted. I promise I’ll explain _everything_ and …” he looked at Bak frantically, a wobbly smile so fixed on his face it looked almost painful, “... and you’ll _laugh_. You’ll laugh when I tell you what I had planned, so _please_ …”

“Not now, Komui,” Bak whispered, leaning against the fountain and looking very, _very_ tired. “Just … not _now_.”

He peeled Komui’s fingers off his wrist and they dropped, lifeless, back into the water, because Komui was staring at him and smiling uncertainly as though he wasn’t quite sure whether he had heard him right.

“I guess I might wind up in HQ’s infirmary again after all,” Bak sighed, placing his hand on Komui’s shoulder as he waded past him and climbed, very carefully over the lip of the fountain, until a passing guard noticed the blood on his forehead and rushed over to help before he passed out flat on the pavement.

“I was so sure you had changed,” Bak continued to mumble, sounding like he was fading in and out of a concussive state, so Reever couldn’t be sure if he actually realized what he was saying, “I thought that after last night, we could …” he trailed off and shook his head.

“I’ll see you at the final conference tomorrow,” he said over his shoulder, “and not a moment before.”

“I hope…” he added, so much _disappointment_ in his face that it was heartbreaking, “well, I hope you got some good data out of this project, whatever it was. I hope it was worth it.”

Reever sucked in air through his teeth. “... I’m sorry, Chief,” he said at last, not knowing what else he _could_ say, grasping Komui’s shoulder and squeezing it as they watched the guard help Bak back up the stone steps and pass him over to the Head Nurse, who looked about as happy to see that Bak had gone and injured himself again as he was to have to put himself back in her care.

It might have been a perfectly poignant scene, had Reever not also noticed Section Chief Peck’s eyes sliding up and down Bak’s drenched form and lingering particularly on the way his pants were clinging to his hips and thighs.

He sighed.

“No,” Komui said, patting Reever’s hand and staring at nothing in particular, “No, he’s right. I _did_ get good data out of this.”

“Chief…?” Reever frowned, looking at him in concern, because Komui’s face was almost frighteningly blank and there had been no inflection in his voice whatsoever. “Don’t beat yourself up, okay? There’s still tomorrow. I’m sure … I’m sure if you just talk things out you could still …”

Komui smiled at him. It was a not a nice smile. “It’s fine, Reever,” he said gently. “Go get yourself seen to and inform the other Departments that we’ll probably be having a big clean-up tomorrow.”

“What about you?”

“I’ll be in the labs,” Komui told him, still smiling in a way that was making Reever _really_ uncomfortable, but he had no idea how to _fix_ it, “Probably until morning. Let the night technicians know, will you? I don’t want to be disturbed.”

“...All right,” Reever said, figuring that if this was how Komui was choosing to cope with this hiccup in his plans then he should just leave him to his own devices. He squeezed Komui’s shoulder one last time and clambered out of the fountain. “Just take care, okay?”

“I always do,” Komui sing-songed, though he made no attempt to move from where he was sitting. In the water. Reever shook his head.

“Is the Chief going to be all right?” Johnny asked worriedly, when Reever had squelched his way back over to them, holding out one of the large, fluffy blankets the Medical Department had been passing around.

“He’ll be fine,” Reever said shortly, wrapping the blanket around his shoulders gratefully and trying not to think about how it was as much a reassurance to himself as it was to Johnny.

He glanced back over to the fountain, where a concerned guard was trying to get Komui to step _out_ of it, but he wouldn’t be budged.

Reever turned back to look at the concerned, blackened faces of his team.

“Get some rest,” he told them, his mind on diamond rings hidden in pondweed and obscured by a multitude of coins.

“We’re going fishing tomorrow.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To be continued.
> 
> **Other notes:**
> 
> **Chang'e** is the Chinese goddess of the moon. Offerings are traditionally made to her during the **Mid-Autumn Festival** in September for fortune and safety, and pastries/cakes are often put on the altar for her to bless. 
> 
> There are many stories based around a chance meeting between lovers at the Mid-Autumn Festival. This is because the festival was the ancient Chinese equivalent to Valentine's Day, so the Mid-Autumn moon has traditionally been a choice occasion to celebrate marriages or to pray to Chang'e to fulfil one's romantic wishes. 
> 
> So ideally if someone wanted to propose, they would do it then.
> 
> **Camellias** have a perfectly symmetrical form that symbolizes the expression of long-lasting devotion in the Chinese tradition, where it grows wild in the south-west of the country. In Victorian England (where DGM is set), wearing a camellia purportedly helped you find a romantic partner, while giving a small bouquet of the flowers conveyed your affection for another person. Pink camellias suggested a sense of longing, while red camellias symbolised passion. Red and pink combined expressed romantic love.


	3. Splintering

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The third ring: the descent.

It is dark by the time the fires are put out.

The air is still heavy with smoke, but the ground is damp now, and mud and wet ash blacken the hem of his uniform and the bare soles of his feet as he trods through the grass; wandering, searching, _hoping_.

The last of the stragglers had left some time ago, retreating back into the warm confines of the Order for the night, and so it is quiet, with only the faint sound of the fountain still burbling behind him and the lamps shining through the arched windows lighting his way.

He had left his sodden slippers and socks behind, thinking to move quickly, but part of him regrets it now, for the wind is bitingly cold and the only dry thing on his person is a towel one of the guards had given him.

It is clutched in his arms instead of pulled over his shoulders but he can’t go inside he thinks, not yet.

Most of the hedges are gone, burned down to their branches like thin, twisted skeletons, and so more of the grounds are visible to him than they would be normally. Logistics would have to be informed of course, so they could get in touch with the groundskeepers and see to getting new plants shipped in from the mainland before winter set in.

Appearances, after all, were important.

He drags his hand through his wet hair, but it flops back, sticking miserably to his face. He shivers and sighs.  

A trail of burnt (now wet) paper and warped wire husks are laid out in front of him, and though all the colour has been sapped from their surfaces and they will be thrown out with the rest of the debris tomorrow he follows them, imagines them lit up like tiny jewels and thinks about what he had planned to say.

Maybe it was for the best. Maybe he _had_ been trying too hard to do everything perfectly, as attempting to impress Bak had only succeeded in alienating him further.

He would follow the trail back to the fountain, he decided, then head back inside, lock himself in his private labs, and do some mindless work on his inventions until the desire to break something, scream, chase Bak down in the infirmary and come clean about _everything_ or do _all three at once_ left his system.

A smile that was more like a pained grimace tugged at the corner of his mouth. Bak would have hated the lanterns, he imagines. Would have complained that they were too lovely, too romantic, too overdone, and then he would have turned so red it would have put their jewelled hues to shame.

He would have liked to see that.

Ah, but the blue ones would have been the prettiest, he thinks a little sadly, looking at the rows of hydrangeas in their garden beds near the stone steps, which had been far enough away from the flames to escape relatively unscathed.

Bak always looked stunning in blue.

He leans over the hydrangeas, admiring them. Maybe he could just take a bunch of them and make them into a bouquet. If he went to see Bak now, if he just _explained_ …

_‘I’ll see you at the final conference tomorrow, and not a moment before.’_

He draws his hand back, quite ready at this stage to just rip everything up by its roots and damn the consequences …

…  and that’s when he sees it.

Blue petals, but not the same shade of blue as the hydrangeas, and textured, as though they were made out of waxy paper.

It was a _lantern_ , wedged awkwardly between the edge of the bushes and two of the stairway balusters, and he reaches out for it with trembling fingers, as though it too would crumble into ash the moment he touched it.

But the lantern does not break when he wiggles it free, or when he cradles it in the towel he had been dragging around so as to not get any water on it.

It was a little dirty but otherwise still jewel-bright and beautiful, the only one in the garden of its kind, and he could have wept right there at the sight of it.

He had to show Bak. He had to …

_'What if he rejects your proposal?’_ Reever’s voice wanted to know, echoing like an omen in his head.

He pauses and turns his head to look at the fountain behind him, at the scorch marks staining its sides. He thinks of the blood dripping down from Bak’s hair and the complete distrust that had shadowed his eyes.  

He looks at the lantern again.

_I’ll fix this_ , he thinks, and holds the lantern close to his chest as he climbs the stone steps with frozen feet and hurries back inside.

 

* * *

 

“What do you _mean_ he doesn’t want to be disturbed?” Jerry demanded, frowning at the pair of unfortunate interns who had the displeasure of playing security guard for the night at the entrance to the basement level labs.

“It means exactly that,” the more insistent one replied, crossing his arms over his chest, “The Chief is working on something important and is to have no interruptions until tomorrow morning. Section Chief Reever’s orders.”

“ _Orders_?” Jerry repeated, scoffing and putting his hand on his hip, the tray of food he was carrying balanced in the other. “And I suppose that means letting him starve while he’s down there too, does it?”

“He’s …” the intern paused at that, looking hesitant, before scowling. “It’s way past dinner time! The Chief’s probably eaten already but even if he hasn’t, what concern of it is _yours_?”

Jerry actually laughed at that.

“Oh, _sweetheart_ ,” he breathed, shaking his head in disbelief, “pigs will fly before that man remembers to eat when he’s supposed to.”

He leaned in, towering over them, “And I’ve been making sure he doesn’t collapse on the job since before you were a twinkle in your mam’s eye. Now step _aside_.”

The intern stared at him, his mouth working furiously, though no sound was forthcoming. His partner nudged him in the side.

“Just let it go Gavin,” he hissed. “Let the Chief eat, for God’s sake. He’s been looking like a dog left out in the rain all evening.”

Gavin made a face. “ _Fine_ ,” he snapped, taking the keys out of his pocket and unlocking the laboratory door, “but this isn’t on my head. Just do what you came to do and go.”

“Well at least _one_ of you has sense,” Jerry said, sweeping past them and making his way down the stairs. “Honestly, they’ll let anyone into the Science Department these days.”

The muffled sound of cursing and an exasperated voice going “Let it _go_ Gav,” followed him all the way down.

The lights that ringed the spiral staircase leading down to the basement labs were old and flickery, and the air got colder the further down you went, but at least it was an improvement on the labs back in old HQ.

Well, Jerry thought, as he made it to the landing and headed towards the first door that still had a light on in its frosted window, it was an improvement in a way a morgue was slightly better than a dungeon.

The door handle was freezing. He opened it with the tips of his fingers.

“Komu-tan!” he called out, raising his voice as he stepped inside to make himself heard over the suddenly much louder roar of machinery and shrieking metal.

It was much warmer inside the lab, no doubt in part due to the massive generator that was whirring in the background. Jerry shut the door behind him.

“ _Komu-tan_ ,” he called out again, setting the bowl of ginger and mushroom congee and the plate of rice biscuits he had brought down on one of the workbenches and tapping his foot.

“I know you’re here, darling. Get your head out of the sand, it’s time for a break!”

The sound of shrieking metal abruptly stopped.

Then a dirty, oil-smeared face poked around a stack of parts, wearing a pair of huge, almost bug-like goggles.

“My head is _not_ in the sand,” Komui muttered, the rest of him coming into view as he rounded the corner and took off his rubber gloves, the most put-upon expression on his face as he pushed the goggles back into his hair.

Jerry looked him up and down. He raised his eyebrows. “What happened to your slippers?”

Komui blinked and looked down vaguely at his bare, dirty feet as though he had forgotten they were there. He wiggled his toes a little.

“I lost them.”

“You lost them,” Jerry said flatly, frowning.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Komui sighed, dropping his goggles down on the workbench Jerry was standing next to and flopping down into a chair.

“I wear safety boots when I’m working. You didn’t think I played around with hot metal and coolants in my socks did you?”

[“Well one would hope,” Jerry replied, carding his fingers through Komui’s hair as he hunched over the congee, stirring through fried shallots and soy sauce with his spoon.](http://i.imgur.com/JPTTxi9.png)

Jerry clucked his tongue. “You’re all damp!” he said disapprovingly.

“Yeah, well,” Komui trailed off, popping the spoon into his mouth and shivering as warmth bled through him and settled in his stomach. He cupped his hands around the bowl and lowered his head. “I’m sure you’ve already heard all about this afternoon’s incident so I won’t bore you with the details.”

“To be fair, only the juicy parts made it all the way to the kitchens,” Jerry admitted, as Komui continued to stir through the congee like a man who hadn’t quite decided whether he had his appetite back or not. Jerry ticked off his fingers.

“Someone started a fire, half the gardens burned to the ground, little Bak-chan made a scene in front of _everyone_ before being tackled into the fountain …”

Komui dragged his hand down his face and groaned. “Did they tell you it was my fault, too?”

Jerry frowned at him. “Some tried,” he said slowly. “Luckily, most of them are smart enough to not pick fights with the person who supervises the preparation of all their meals.”

He grasped Komui’s shoulder and shook it gently.

“It’s sad, isn’t it?” he whispered. “Nearly ten years we’ve known each other and when I heard you’d exiled yourself to the basement I knew you were just looking for a place to wallow in self-blame for a while. This is _not_ your fault, Komu-tan.”

Komui exhaled, dropping his head down onto his arms tiredly. “It _is_ my fault though,” he protested. “None of this would have happened if I’d just listened to Reever and just _told_ Bak-chan that I wanted to …”

“Ah,” Jerry murmured, and gave his shoulder another reassuring shake. “Right. This sudden mad scheme to chain yourself to that snobby little lord till death do you part. Reever told me all about it when he came to ask about your private dinner yesterday.”

He smacked Komui lightly on the head and put his arm around him. “You know, any other time I’d be mad that you didn’t come and tell me the news yourself, but I probably would have shut you down and you’d have gone and done something even more desperate.”

Komui scoffed at that, his voice muffled in the crook of his arms. “Reever tried to talk me out of it,” he replied. “He told me I was rushing into this and that I ought to take things slow, but I didn’t care. _You_ would have told me not to marry him at all because you hate him.”

“Darling, _really_ ,” Jerry tutted. “I don’t _hate_ your Bak-chan. That would imply I actually care about what he thinks of me. Though he _is_ rather rude. And spoiled, _and_ he’s got a temper about as long as a matchstick …”

“ _Jerry_ ,” Komui hissed, his fingers clenched tight in his sleeve.

“But despite the fact that I think you are far too clever for the likes of him,” Jerry continued loudly, “your infinite charm and persistence has very obviously won him over.”

Komui went still. He lifted his head a little, peeking at Jerry cautiously.

“So yesterday’s proposal didn’t work out,” Jerry said gently, “and today’s completely blew up in your face, er … in a manner of speaking. Does that mean you’re going to stop trying?”

“He doesn’t even want to look at me right now,” Komui told him, pinching the bridge of his nose and looking defeated. “And I lost the ring! If I ask him after _this_ he’s bound to say no!”

“Would it be an absolute no, though?” Jerry wanted to know. “Or would it be more along the lines of a ‘no, not right now’?”

“I don’t …”

“Because it wouldn’t be so bad, you know,” Jerry went on, rubbing his arm comfortingly. “The latter. Then you’ll both have time to think over what you want.”

Komui frowned. “This _is_ what I want,” he said stubbornly.

Jerry held his hands up. “Komu-tan, please, just consider the facts for a moment. How long did it take the man to sort himself out and finally agree to date you? Officially?”

Komui’s frown deepened at that. “Nearly … nearly ten years,” he said slowly.

“Exactly,” Jerry nodded, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Now I’m not saying he’s going to take as long to think _this_ through,” he added hastily, when a look of horror slowly started to spread across Komui’s face, “just that even if you _had_ a ring and you asked him tomorrow he may not agree to it straight away. Not everyone thinks about getting married.”

“... Still, given the track record that little monster has I wouldn’t be surprised if he’d already resigned himself to being a bachelor his whole life like Master Zhu,” he muttered under his breath and then shook his head.

“My point is this, Komu-tan,” Jerry said quietly, resting his hand on Komui’s own and squeezing his fingers.

“Don’t let what happened today get you down, all right? Bak-chan may be hopping mad right now but he’ll have cooled down by tomorrow.”

Komui looked a bit hesitant at that, but a hopeful spark was starting to twinkle in his eyes again. “I don’t know …”

“Ask him,” Jerry said firmly, “Ask him, and then at least you will know for sure whether he’s ready for such a big commitment.”

“... and if he’s not?”

Jerry smiled a little. “Well,” he said, patting Komui’s hand reassuringly, “you’ve waited this long, haven’t you?”

Komui chewed his bottom lip thoughtfully, mulling this over.

“Okay,” he said at last, straightening up in his seat as his brows furrowed together. “Okay. There’s still one more full moon tomorrow night. I can do this.”

“I have no idea what the moon has to do with anything, but that’s the spirit,” Jerry said delightedly. He nudged the food tray closer.

“Now please finish your dinner before it either goes cold or you collapse from overworking, otherwise that upstart intern upstairs is going to think I killed you and alert the entire guard.”

“Intern?” Komui repeated curiously as he popped another spoonful of congee in his mouth, his appetite apparently having returned to him.

His eyes lit up with recognition. “Oh, right. _Them_. The night watch. Fun kids, aren’t they? I remember when I had to do that sort of thing.”

“Fun,” Jerry said sarcastically. “If you say so.”

Komui shrugged good-naturedly at that, nibbling one of the biscuits slowly.

“Thank you,” he said at last.

Jerry raised an eyebrow. “For what? For dinner? You know I’d never let you starve.”

“Well, that too,” Komui admitted, “but mostly, well. For just being there and giving me advice, even when I don’t deserve it.”

“Now don’t start that again,” Jerry said sternly, “Everyone deserves to be happy. You especially. Lord only knows I don’t see the appeal myself, but _he_ makes you light up like a Christmas tree, and that’s good enough for me.”

Komui twiddled his thumbs. “… Jerry?”

“Darling?”  

“How do I convince Bak-chan the proposal isn’t a joke if I don’t have the ring?”

Jerry made an impatient noise. “Oh, Komu-tan is that what you’re worried about? That’s _easy_.” He grabbed Komui’s shoulders then, spinning him in his seat and looking him dead in the eye.

“You just have to be _bold_.”

“Bold?” Komui repeated incredulously.

“Don’t pose the question to him in vague, romantic terms. Confront him,” Jerry replied. “Little Bak-chan wouldn’t know subtlety if it hit him over the head like a sledgehammer. You have to come on strong. Be direct. Let him know how you feel.”

“Right,” Komui muttered to himself. “Bold. Direct. That shouldn’t be too hard. Do you think I should insist?”

“Absolutely,” Jerry said firmly. “The Changs value strength of character above all else. Show him that you mean business, but that you will still respect his decision if he says he wants to wait.”

Komui made a slight grumbling noise at that, which sounded vaguely like “... but I don’t _want_ to get married at forty.”

“What was that?” Jerry wanted to know, leaning in.

Komui cleared his throat. “Nothing,” he said quickly. “I just know what I have to do now.”

“If you’re sure Komu-tan,” Jerry said a little doubtfully, drumming his fingers against Komui’s shoulders before pulling away and patting his oil-stained cheek comfortingly.

“It’ll all work out fine. You’ll see.”

“... Mm,” Komui murmured somewhat distractedly, his fingers tracing patterns and formulas on the workbench as he tapped his spoon against the bowl and glanced back at the lab equipment behind him.  

“Be direct,” he repeated thoughtfully, rubbing his chin. Reever had said that just yesterday too, hadn’t he? Perhaps they were on to something.

“I can do that.”

 

* * *

 

“He said ‘ _no_ ’?” Lenalee exclaimed, her voice rising in pitch so suddenly that it sent a wave of static shrieking through Lavi’s golem.

“Well they’re not exactly on speaking terms right now,” Lavi said, trying to dig the slight ringing noise out of his ear. “So a ‘no’ is more or less implied at this stage, don’t you think?”

His golem narrowed its eye at him. Then Lenalee’s voice crackled from its speakers, solemn and firm.

“You have to fix this.”

“ _Me_?” Lavi said incredulously, raising his eyebrows. “What the hell do you want _me_ to do?”

“I don’t know,” Lenalee admitted, “but Brother had his heart set on making this proposal work and it’s already Sunday morning. The conference will end this afternoon. You can’t let Mr. Bak leave HQ before they sort things out.”

“If he hasn’t left already,” Lavi sighed, glancing out one of the windows at the blackened garden outside and watching Order members mill around, picking up dead pieces of wood and sweeping leaves into sacks for later disposal. “He was stuck in Medical all night from what I heard. Apparently he got a nasty bump on the head during all the excitement yesterday, so he might not even _be_ at the conference if Head Nurse refuses to allow it.”

There was a silence. Lavi turned his head and squinted at his golem, briefly wondering if they had somehow been disconnected.

“Lena…?”

The golem suddenly sprang to life, moving so close to his face it bounced off his nose. Lavi reeled backwards. “Ow! Jesus, _what_ \- ”

“You have to find him!”

“Say what?”

“Find Mr. Bak and convince him that he has to talk to my brother,” Lenalee said urgently.

“Oh sure,” Lavi muttered, rubbing his nose. “Easy peasy. Like taking the mountain to Mohammed. Lena, I don’t think …”

“ _Please_ , Lavi. Just … try. Don’t let this turn into another huge misunderstanding. They’ve already gone through so many of those and I don’t think Brother has it in him to handle another one.”

Because he was already handling this whole proposal idea _so_ well, Lavi thought, but didn’t say aloud.

He groaned. “ _Okay_ , I’ll do it. In the interest of documenting this event in its entirety …”

“And for love,” Lenalee added.

“And for the sake of observing the worst romance in recorded Order history finally reach its pinnacle,” Lavi continued, grinning when Lenalee scoffed, “I will make a stab at playing matchmaker.”

“Thank you,” Lenalee said, sounding a little more relieved now, “Just try to hold down the fort, all right? I should be back by this evening so if they’re still being stubborn-headed mules at that point I’ll sort them out.”

Lavi had no doubt that ‘sorting them out’ involved locking both parties in a room until one of them caved or tried to murder the other one, but he didn’t say that either.

“You really think gettin’ hitched is going to improve their relationship?” He asked, crossing his arms behind his head as he strolled down the corridor, his golem circling around him.

“Brother certainly thinks so,” Lenalee replied, as Lavi thought she might. No matter what her own misgivings on the matter were, on this at least, she seemed to trust Komui’s judgement wholeheartedly. “He’s always wanted to, you know.”

“What, get married?”

“It’s just been Brother and I for as long as I can remember,” Lenalee went on, sounding wistful now. “I think getting married and expanding our family will make him happy.”

“In that case, you’re in luck,” Lavi told her, easing open the first door he saw and peeking inside. Bak wasn’t in the room but it had been worth a shot. He carried on his way. “The Asian Branch is full of Changs. You’ll be up to your ears in family.”

“I suppose,” Lenalee allowed, sounding uncertain enough that Lavi paused.

“What’s the matter?” He asked curiously. “Not so keen on joining the higher ranks of Order society?”

“It’s not that,” Lenalee admitted, as though she were thinking through her words very carefully. “It’s just … well Mr. Bak doesn’t seem very close to his family, that’s all.”

“Well there _are_ a lot of them,” Lavi pointed out. “And you can’t really expect the clan head to be buddy-buddy with everyone. Plus, this is Director Bak we’re talking about. He’s about as cuddly as a small, angry cactus. And that’s on a _good_ day.”

Lenalee made a funny little noise in her throat, though Lavi couldn’t say whether it was sympathetic or agreeable. She cleared her throat.

“That’s what I mean though,” she said earnestly. “I think this will make _him_ happy too.”

“And God only knows we’re all running thin on finding reasons to be happy,” Lavi sighed, running his hand back through his hair.

Lenalee hummed a little sadly at that, though a few seconds later she let out a surprised “ _Oh_!” that shocked Lavi’s golem into jolting its wings open in alarm so quickly it almost dropped like a stone.

“You should ask Kanda for help!”

“ _Yuu_?” Lavi stared at the golem, and then looked up and down the corridor as though someone else had called out such an absurd suggestion and then retreated back into hiding.  “We’re talking about the same Kanda, right?”

“I’m serious!” Lenalee huffed, and Lavi could almost envision her cheeks puffing out indignantly. “He grew up in the Asian Branch before being assigned to General Tiedoll. He _knows_ things.”

“Are you _trying_ to get me killed?” Lavi demanded, wringing his hands.

“If you can’t convince Mr. Bak then maybe he could! You never know!”

“Ah, I see how it is,” Lavi deadpanned, bracing himself against a balcony railing and flopping over it. A couple of maids took one glance at him and hurried past, a load of laundry squeezed between them.

“You clever young miss. You don’t want them to get married at all. You heard the Director made Komui miserable and now you want me to find Kanda and have him killed.”

“Oh, don’t be ridiculous!” Lenalee snapped, “If I wanted Mr. Bak dead for breaking Brother’s heart I’d do it myself!”

A sudden chill passed over Lavi at those words. Unconditional love was a terrifying thing.

He shuddered. “Then why…?”

“Strength in numbers,” she replied shortly. “I’d have sent Allen off with you too, but he’s in Prague right now and probably won’t get back until the middle of next week.”

It was probably the luckiest thing to happen to Allen in recent memory and he wasn’t even around to see it.

Lavi, on the other hand, was starting to feel distinctly like a chess piece being ordered around the playing field by a cunning queen. He lifted his head.

“So what you’re saying is that we should just keep hounding the Director to set things to rights until he relents?”

Lenalee didn’t have anything to say to that, but her triumphant silence spoke volumes.

Lavi grinned. Persuasion wasn’t really his forte.

Provocation, on the other hand, he could do _that_ in his sleep.

 

* * *

 

Kanda, at least, was not hard to find, because he stuck to his routine with a single-minded stubbornness that Lavi was more familiar seeing in men three times his age, and he seemed to like it that way.

In hindsight, that was probably why he had to sprint the last few metres to the Meditation Hall and wedge his shoulder into the doorway after Kanda had spotted him turning the corner and had done his level best to shut the door in his face.

“Hey buddy!” Lavi said cheerfully, trying to squeeze the rest of his body into the room so Kanda would have no choice but to let him in. “Do you have a minute?”

“No,” Kanda said sharply, and pushed harder against the door. Evidently, Lavi losing a couple of fingers or his entire arm was a risk he was willing to take.

“Oh, come on!” Lavi wheedled, reaching around the door despite the fact that its edge was starting to bite into his chest and tweaking the hem of Kanda’s shirt. “Lena just wanted me to pass on a message, that’s all!”

That gave Kanda pause. He stopped pushing the door, but his hand remained firm against its surface so Lavi couldn’t catch him off guard and slip inside. He scowled, waiting.  

“Okay, so it’s like this ...” Lavi began, and then paused, “actually before I say anything I feel you should know that what I’m about to tell you was entirely Lena’s idea. Her idea, got it? Not mine.”  

“Just hurry up and give me the message already, you dumb rabbit. I’m busy.”

Lavi sucked the inside of his cheek. “I need you to convince Director Bak to get back on speaking terms with Komui by this evening.”

The door slammed back against him so fast it was a wonder that no bones cracked. “Oww, _God_ … that’s, what did I say about not shooting the messenger?!”

“ _No_ ,” Kanda said again, his tone venomous. “Absolutely not. I am not … I _do not_ want to be involved in that never ending circus. Get out.”

“But it’s for _love_ ,” Lavi said, though he almost immediately wished he hadn’t made the quip, because that just made Kanda look even more disgusted.

“It won’t even be that hard!” He protested, leaning forward a little now and pushing back against the door, because the only other option was letting half of his ribs get crushed.

“You’re plenty good at convincing people. Just glare at him a little and he’ll run off to Komui, sure as eggs, and they’ll be engaged by lunch time!”

“ _Engaged_?” Kanda repeated, wrinkling his nose, because as far as he was concerned Komui was _already_ insufferable about his relationship and he didn’t know why anyone would want to help make him _worse_.

“Yes, engaged,” Lavi replied patiently, ticking off his fingers. “You know how it goes, right? First comes love, then comes marriage, then comes …”

“I am not above shaving you completely bald if you don’t stop talking,” Kanda said darkly, and Lavi was suddenly thankful that he could see Mugen propped up against the opposite wall. At least he’d get a head start running if Kanda’s fine temper snapped before he could finish saying his piece. Time to cut to the chase.

“Listen Yuu I’m sure even _you’ve_ heard about how there was a small re-enactment of the Great Fire of London in the eastern gardens yesterday…”

“Who hasn’t?” Kanda said flatly. “Half the windows cracked in the heat _and_ one of my favourite training spots has now been reduced to ash and rubble because of those Science Department jerks.”

… Maybe bringing up the fire wasn’t such a great idea after all. Lavi cleared his throat.

“To cut a long story short the road to hell is paved with good intentions. Komui planned to propose, it all went to shit, and now Director Bak has more or less excommunicated him until further notice.”

“Of course it went to shit,” Kanda deadpanned. “Komui loses whatever ability he has to put his brain to good use whenever he gets overly invested in something. What I want to know is what this entire farce has to do with _me_.”

“Well if Komui is sad and Director Bak is mad, how much longer do you think HQ will be left standing?” Lavi wanted to know. Kanda raised an eyebrow scornfully. “I give it another 12 hours tops.”

“Also,” he added, shrugging his shoulders even though the weight of the door pressing against his torso made them grind uncomfortably, “Lenalee will murder us.”

Kanda’s other eyebrow went up.

“Now I’m sure my death will probably be quick and painless,” Lavi went on with a dramatic sigh that came out as more of a wheeze because his lungs could only take so much weight, “because no one can say I haven’t been trying to avert the impending apocalypse, but _you_ ,” he pointed at Kanda. “Your suffering will be prolonged because you knew this would happen but you still turned your back.”

“I don’t give a flying fuck who Komui Lee is smooching in dark corridors,” Kanda snapped. “So long as he doesn’t do it in front of _me_. Which he _does_. So excuse me for liking it better this way!”

“Don’t say that,” Lavi drawled, wondering how long he would be able to keep this up until Kanda either lost it and broke his arm or agreed just to get him to shut up. “Didn’t you grow up in the Asian Branch?”

Kanda went very still.

Lavi forged on. “So you must have known Director Bak in some capacity, right? I mean, he’s old but not _that_ old. And the Science Department does such a good job of looking out for us, it would be real nice to return the favour don’t you think? Doesn’t the Director at least deserve th - ”

“I _don’t_ ,” Kanda suddenly said roughly, and so suddenly that the words seemed to surprise him almost as much as they surprised Lavi. He pressed his lips together into a thin line and started again.

“Do you really think I would have willingly gone anywhere near that loud, pain in the ass Director, even as a child?”

“Well, I …”

“Because I didn’t,” Kanda continued sharply. “We hardly spoke. I couldn’t care less if he remains miserable for the rest of his damn life.”

Then he gave the door an almighty shove, dislodging Lavi and sending him sprawling onto the stone floor with an ungainly thump.

“Oww, _oww_ okay … geez, I get it,” Lavi winced, sitting up and rubbing his sore shoulder. “Sorry I brought it up. Wait, where are you going?”

Kanda turned on his heel and gave him a withering look. “Do you want to find the Director or not?”

Lavi stared at the floor and then back up into Kanda’s face, wondering if he had cracked his head on his way down and hadn’t noticed. “Huh? Seriously? I thought you said you didn’t care?”

Oh, if looks could kill.

“ _I_ don’t,” Kanda replied, and resumed stalking down the corridor, “but I know someone who would.”

Lavi brightened at that. “Aww, you big softie!” He teased, “I knew you wouldn’t let Lena down!”

Kanda shook his head, his mouth pulled down into a scowl. “I’m not doing it for her.”

“Huh?”

But he would say no more than that, and so Lavi scrambled to his feet and chased after him, his head buzzing full of curious, cryptic questions that he knew Kanda would never give an answer to.

 

* * *

 

There were many things Bak had planned to do with his morning after finally convincing the nurses to discharge him.

First of all, he was going to eat breakfast and actually _enjoy_ it, since dinner had come and gone the night before while he was too concussed to appreciate it properly. After that he had decided he was going to sleep off the utter _exhaustion_ yesterday’s incident had left him with until lunchtime.

Then he would immerse himself in all the paperwork he had been neglecting over the past three days and not think on anything outside of trade agreements and governing policies until the conference was over, after which he could go back home in good spirits, safe in the belief he had done the best work he could, and then resume his normal routine as though this entire weekend had been nothing but a bad dream.

Instead, he was holed up in the tiny reading room on the third floor, a throw rug tight around his shoulders with his face pressed to the spidery cracks of a window pane. The sheaf of papers that were clutched in his hands were blank, with a growing ink spot spreading out under his pen in a thick, dark circle.

Komui hadn’t stopped by the hospital ward at all, which was both depressing and a relief. Bak hadn’t expected him to actually _listen_ when he said he did not want to see Komui today outside of work, and in fact had been looking for an opportunity to yell at him some more when he _did_ show his face.

But Komui had never showed and even his assistant seemed to be having a hard time locating him.

_You’re hiding your face too, so don’t put this all on him_ , his conscience told him sternly, which in turn made Bak want to pull the throw rug over his head and tune the whole world out.

His pride wouldn’t allow such a childish display of sulking though, so instead he hunched himself up tighter in the armchair he had commandeered for himself and tried to make out the shapes of figures in the garden below through the warped glass.

_I shouldn’t have yelled at him_ , he thought miserably, even as the more logical side of his brain, the one that wasn’t tired and hurt and _aching_ from the head wound on his forehead, got its back up in protest.

It wasn’t _his_ fault that Komui Lee seemed incapable of doing _anything_ in small measures, even … well, whatever yesterday was supposed to have been.

Had it been a step up from a candlelit dinner? A candlelit … courtyard?

The cut on his forehead throbbed. Bak rubbed his fingers gingerly over the stitches that had been used to stave off the bleeding, frowning.

Did he think Bak would be _impressed_? Had he even checked in with the staff before starting fires in what was easily one of the most flammable parts of the Order? _What had been the point?_

_It was definitely some kind of hare-brained experiment that had gone awry_ , Bak thought, drumming his fingers against the armrest. _It had to be._

Though why Komui thought it would be a good idea to place Bak in the position of lab rat when he knew full well how Bak felt about wasting Order funds on inane side projects was beyond him.

He should have figured something was up and acted on it the moment the idiot had gone and got himself cleaned up and … and treated him to one of the nicest dinners anyone had ever invited him to.

A sour feeling curled tight in his belly, where only yesterday he had felt a fluttering, bubbly sort of warmth. Bak clutched the throw rug tighter around him, and swallowed bile.

_We don’t do dates_ , he repeated to himself wretchedly. _We don’t. We’re not … I don’t even know what we are, but I knew **that** and I still … ugh. You’re pathetic, Chang_.

A few silly smiles and softly-spoken ‘ _I love you_ ’s and one of the most cunning, brilliant men in the Black Order (himself not included) had managed to get him to eat out of the palm of his hand. He was a disgrace. If Fou heard a single word about this she would hurl him into a wall for being so _soft_ and Bak would _let_ her because he would one hundred percent deserve it.

Perhaps it was time to finally put an end to this silly game, he thought quietly, lifting the ink-stained paper in his lap and staring at the smudges as though we hasn’t quite sure how they had got there.

It was near impossible to maintain a relationship within the Order outside of the noble families. The turnover and casualty rates alone were enough to put people off trying to achieve anything for the long-term but Komui … Komui Lee had been a thorn in his side for a near decade.

Where had he even got the idea that they would be able to make this work? And why was he so determined to try?

It would be easier for both of them Bak thought, if they just used this opportunity to finally make a clean break and put an end to this awkward dance. Komui was very well admired within HQ and it wouldn’t … well. It wouldn’t take him long at all to find someone else to ply with ridiculous compliments and gentle ribbing and the occasional Order-wide catastrophe. Probably.

And it wasn’t like that future left him completely without options either.

He could speak to the family matchmaker and have a political courtship set up. His parents had got along just fine despite having been betrothed to each other since they were children. In fact they had _adored_ each other. Who was to say that Bak couldn’t be just as happy?

True, he was no longer as young as he had been when he had broken off his own arranged engagement after his parents’ deaths to concentrate on his career but surely it wasn’t too late?

He could still order Wong to take the matchmaker’s old dossiers out of their dusty storage boxes and go over them. Surely it was better to start a courtship with someone who had been raised in the same world as he had and knew all the protocol and exactly what they wanted from him?

That was … that was better than fighting his way blind through a relationship with a man who made embarrassing declarations of love on a daily basis and had been happy to remain in commitment limbo for years because Bak could never decide what to make of him, wasn’t it?

He could even forgo steady relationships altogether to focus on his job and pass on the role of clan head to one of his cousins’ children when he retired. It wasn’t a bad life, he thought, dedicating yourself to craft and cause.

It was certainly better than stolen kisses and hours in-between meetings and not knowing where this relationship was heading but letting it tie him up in suffocating knots until he could barely breathe but for the exhilaration and exasperation over the whole damn experience.

_You love him_ , the dark, simpering voice whispered again, and Bak found he had nothing to counter that because it was true.

_I **do** love him_ , Bak thought and it gutted him to even admit it, _but we can’t go on like this. Love isn’t enough. I hardly know what I want, let alone what **he** wants, and we’ve barely got the time to try and make it work as it is._

_Well, he did say he wanted to talk_.

Bak curled his fingers into the armrest and took a deep, harrowing breath. His heart was sitting like lead in his chest.

“Then maybe that will be something we need to discuss once the conference is over,” he said at last, and dragged himself to his feet. He pushed the throw rug off his shoulder and clutched his papers, hand outstretched towards the doorknob.

_Time to stop running_ , Bak told himself firmly, though he had barely brushed his fingers against the handle when the door suddenly flew open, banging against the wall. He leapt back in alarm.

Kanda Yuu scowled back at him, framed in the doorway like a menacing household demon,  a familiar Cheshire grin gleaming at Bak from his shoulder.

He gaped at them.

“ _There_ you are Director Bak!” Lavi said cheerfully, waving at him as though they were old friends. “You sure have a knack for making yourself scarce when you don’t want to be found! We were starting to think you’d snuck back to the Asian Branch. Were you going to find Komui? Excellent, we can all go together - ”

Bak watched, his eyebrows still up around his hairline, as Kanda said nothing to this, but very carefully eased himself into the room while Lavi was talking and shut the door in his face.

A hush fell upon them.

Then a frantic battering of fists started pounding away on the hardwood surface.

“What the hell, Yuu!” came Lavi’s muffled voice, as Kanda leaned back on the door and continued to ignore him. He looked at Bak with disdain.

“Is this why you agreed to come along?” Lavi demanded, rapping on the door now with a sharpness that was starting to give Bak a headache. “It’s not the Director’s fault your training grounds were destroyed! Beating him up isn’t going to solve anything! If Lenalee finds out about this, she’s going to - ”

Kanda slammed the heel of his foot against the door with such force that it was a wonder the wood merely shuddered instead of cracked.

Bak flinched despite himself and immediately regretted it. Dark eyes zeroed in on him, sizing him up and Bak frowned back at him, mulling over Bookman Junior’s words.

Had it been any other person he would have protested vehemently against having anything to do with the disaster last night, but when it came to this boy he found his tongue felt like it was cemented to the roof of his mouth.

Theirs was an awkward relationship, a shared past built on corpses in bloodied pools before an altar, taboos and dark tombs that would hopefully never see the light of day ever again. For the most part Kanda went about pretending that Bak didn’t exist, preferring instead to take all his grievances to his grand-uncle, and he would be lying if he said that he wasn’t relieved.

Which was why Bak could not figure out why Kanda was standing in front of him _now_. Was he looking for an explanation? An apology? A promise to personally look into HQ getting the eastern gardens fixed up as soon as possible?

He opened his mouth.

“Stop sulking like a damn child and go talk to Komui,” Kanda suddenly said, and that stung almost as much as whatever Bak imagined Fou would tell him when he got home and she wrangled this whole sorry story out of him.

Still, offense and indignation coiled sharply inside of him, adding spikes to the shame and heating his cheeks.

“Excuse me?” he demanded. “Who are you calling a … Did that idiot put you up to this? Because if he wants to talk to _me_ then he can very well come and find me _himself_ \- ”

“You’re an idiot too,” Kanda deadpanned, and Bak could hear Lavi muttering darkly behind the door about how this wasn’t helpful in the _least_.

Bak spluttered. “What…!?”

“Do you get off on this?” Kanda wanted to know. “Having your ridiculous lovers’ spats in front of the whole damn Order every couple of years?”

Lavi groaned.

“Every …” Bak repeated incredulously, scowling. “That’s not true! We don’t argue every …”

“Really?” Kanda said flatly, “because I’ve been at HQ for a _long_ time now,” and Bak could see from his expression that neither one of them wanted to recount just how many years that actually was, “and you assholes still don’t have your shit sorted.”

Bak opened his mouth to argue, but then abruptly closed it again. He couldn’t exactly counter that accusation when the evidence of said latest spat was sitting just outside the window behind him.

“I…”

“It’s impossible to live with Komui Lee,” Kanda said roughly. “I get it. Literally no one but his sister even wants to. But if you can’t commit to sticking it out then you had better fuck off right back to China because everyone in this damn building is sick of watching the two of you half-assing things and blowing the grounds up in the process.”

“I’m not,” Lavi called out unhelpfully, and Kanda kicked the door again to shut him up.  

Bak swallowed hard, because each word was a truth and was sticking to him like tiny knives.

“What … What do you know,” he tried weakly, even though the words got caught in his throat. “This is … it’s _complicated_. If you think I can just … that I can just …”

“It’s not complicated,” Kanda said shortly, sounding bored now. “You’re just overthinking it. Professor Edgar said you do that. I just didn’t think it would be this fucking _annoying_.”

Bak looked at him sharply. “You…”

“This is not the life they wanted for you and you know that. Fix it.”

“What?” Lavi asked curiously. “Who?”

“You can’t know that,” Bak hissed, anger and despair and _suspicion_ curling like a thick cloud inside him. “You _don’t_ know that. You’re making that up and I don’t care for it, Kanda Yuu.”

“ _Fix it_ ,” Kanda repeated, nothing in his expression betraying either the truth or a lie. “Put an end to this entire decade-long mess, because if I have to live through one more year of hearing how unhappy you morons are I’m going to lose my mind.”

Bak had nothing to say to that. He pressed his lips together, growing silent.

“Right!” Lavi suddenly piped up, tapping on the door again as though to remind them he was still there. “Now that the threats to life and limb are out of the way, what do you say you and Komui go kiss and make up, huh? Guys?”

Bak lifted his head and gave Kanda a long, searching look. Kanda stared back at him impassively.

Then he stepped aside.

“Whoa, hey!” Lavi exclaimed, stumbling forward as Bak wrenched the door open and shouldered past him. “What did I miss? Director Bak? Ohh, okay. No, that’s not a happy face. This … This isn’t going to end well.”

“What on earth have you _done_ to him?” he demanded, shaking Kanda’s shoulder as Bak took off down the hallway towards the stairs. “This is a disaster! You said you were going to make the Director less miserable! They’re supposed to be getting engaged!”

“Well he’s not moping around feeling sorry for himself anymore is he?” Kanda replied, elbowing Lavi aside and taking off down the corridor in the opposite direction.

“If they can’t come clean and figure out what they damn well want after _this_ then I’ll take matters into my _own_ hands. I’m not about to suffer through _another_ decade of this foolishness.”

That was even worse than Lenalee potentially locking them in a room until they learned to get along, Lavi thought. _Kanda_ meant to lock them in a room _and_ threaten them at swordpoint until someone got a ring on their finger or broke the relationship off in its entirety.

“You’re a _terrible_ romance consultant,” he said to Kanda’s back bitterly, crossing his arms and turning in the direction Bak had gone in.

Kanda scoffed. “It’s a terrible excuse for a romance,” he replied brusquely, and kept walking.

Lavi made a face at that, tugging one of his earrings anxiously.

There was nothing else for it now. This was either going to be the happiest day of Komui Lee’s life, or the worst.

 

* * *

 

The eastern gardens looked like a construction site. Throngs of people were clustered around the courtyard, picking up broken branches and bits of rubble and uprooting whatever remained of the hedges after the fires had been put out. There was an air of quiet camaraderie now that the initial scare from the night before hadn’t turned out to be an attack after all, and Bak even received a few gracious nods as he passed a group of chatting volunteers.

No one was muttering darkly amongst themselves or casting baleful looks in any one direction, so he could only conclude that Komui wasn’t helping with the cleanup.

That in itself was odd, and he almost turned on his heel and headed back inside to check the labs when he noticed something even stranger.

Reever and the entirety of Komui’s inner circle were wading through the blackened fountain, which had been turned off while repairs were still underway.

“Have we got anything?” Reever called out, straightening up from his hunched over position to adjust his sleeves and roll his pants a little higher up his legs so they didn’t get too wet.

Bak raised his eyebrows and ventured closer, his curiosity getting the better of him.

“Pond scum,” Cash replied dispassionately, grimacing as she heaved a handful of duckweed and lily pads over the lip of the fountain, where they tumbled over and hit the floor with a resounding splat.

“Debris,” Rob added, circling past Reever’s other side as he threw bits of floating wood and broken stone out of the water as well.

“Money,” Johnny sighed, scooping water with what looked curiously like a colander from the kitchens and picking bits of metal out of the rubbish.

“Never thought I’d be this unhappy to see so much cold, hard cash,” Jiji muttered, sorting through the mound of coins and other bits of junk Johnny was leaving out and putting them into different piles.

Reever groaned and dragged a wet hand down his face. He grimaced, seeming to realize what he had just done, and was turning his head to wipe his nose on a drier part of his lab coat when he spotted Bak.

“Director Bak!” He exclaimed, and suddenly they were all staring at him like startled rabbits. Johnny even dumped the coins he had just sieved out in his colander back into the water.

Bak stared back at them, his eyebrows raised. When no one made a move to speak he cleared his throat and widened his stance a little, trying to look as authoritative as possible and not, he hoped, completely baffled.

“I’m looking for Komui.”

More than one head turned to look at Reever for guidance.

“Oh!” Reever replied, looking around and then up at the fountain as though a 6 foot tall man might be hiding in one of the upper stone basins. “Well, we’ve been out here since breakfast and he’s, well … he’s not here.”

“I can see that,” Bak replied flatly and waited for him to continue.

Reever clearly did _not_ want to continue, because his blue eyes looked pained, and they kept darting towards the water as though Bak was going to leap over the side and _join_ them in getting covered in pondweed, and he couldn’t fathom for the life of him why he would even think such a thing.

“Haven’t seen him since last night so we can’t really help you there,” Jiji cut in. He had gone back to sorting through piles of trash when it became apparent that Bak wasn’t leaving without answers.

“You know, after you had a flaming row and left him last night. Out here,” he added, shaking his head as furious patches of colour immediately began to bloom on Bak’s cheeks. “In the cold. Miserable. _Alone_.”

“Why are you looking for the Chief anyway?” Johnny demanded, frowning in such a way that it (was) clear he still hadn’t forgiven Bak’s outburst in the crowded, firelit courtyard last night.

Bak scowled at them, his face hot. It was none of their concern, he thought viciously, what he did or did not say to Komui, or how the tides of their relationship turned. He would apologize, he thought stubbornly, and they would work things out the same as they had always done, but that didn’t mean the whole blessed world had to know about it.

“I just want to talk,” he said through gritted teeth, his nails digging into his palms. “I was not … I may have said some things last night that I, _ugh_. Listen, if you’re going to be deliberately unhelpful, I’ll …”

“He might be doing some work in the labs,” Reever said quickly, glaring at Jiji and Johnny because even if _they_ had no qualms over making Bak start shouting again, _he_ definitely did.

“Maybe he’s still there, you know? It wouldn’t be the first time he’s fallen asleep on the job, I mean. That’s not to say he takes naps during work hours, just that …”

“Then I’ll check the labs,” Bak replied before he could finish, because Reever was now leaning on one of the lower stone basins in what seemed like an attempt at being casual but just looked horribly uncomfortable. Curiosity and a rising temper aside, now he was just _concerned_.

“What are you _doing_?” He demanded.

“Doing…?” Reever repeated blankly and then looked at the fountain again. “We’re … cleaning.”

Bak didn’t think it was possible to be any more dumbfounded but he was finding himself getting more so with each passing minute.

“Isn’t that Logistics’ department?”

“It’s called teamwork,” Jiji said helpfully. “I know that’s a bit of a foreign concept sometimes, but …”

“ _All_ the Departments are chipping in,” Reever broke in loudly, sounding far more worked up about this than Bak himself was feeling, if the scowl on his face was any indication. “So we can get this whole mess sorted out before the weekend is over and _forget it ever happened_.”

“Why do you need five people to clean one fountain?” Bak asked, still feeling as though he was missing something. “It isn’t even broken.”

“It’s filthy,” Reever countered, far too quickly for Bak’s liking. “The marble’s stained and the drains are choked with debris. It’s due for a little work anyhow so we might as well lend a hand while we’re here right?”

“But why does it _matter_?” Bak insisted, frowning harder as the pieces started slotting together in his mind like badly put together jigsaw puzzle.

Then a thought occurred to him. “ _He_ was splashing around in this fountain yesterday too.”

Four heads suddenly ducked back down, sorting through the debris and leaving Reever to lift his chin and put on his best face.

“Well you know how the Chief can be,” he started off slowly, but Bak was not in the mood for any more games.

“What’s in that fountain?” He wanted to know, narrowing his eyes at Reever. He was an honest man as far as Bak was aware, but his loyalty to Komui and his secrets seemed to outweigh everything else. “What are you looking for?”

Reever held his gaze, frowning, but his shoulders seemed to sag a little at that, as though he were very, _very_ tired. “Director Bak, it’s really not my place …”

“ _What are you looking for_?” Bak said again, and he must have sounded more demanding than he thought because whatever exasperated, slightly fretful demeanor Reever had been sporting not a minute earlier suddenly disappeared and he drew himself up to his full height.

“I can’t tell you,” Reever told him seriously, though Bak would have been more inclined to be impressed with such cheek towards a superior officer if Reever didn’t look so hopelessly wet and rumpled.

“I’m _sorry_ sir, truly, but I can’t. If you want to know, you’ll have to ask the Chief.”

Bak’s mouth worked soundlessly for a moment. He could still order them away from this place, he thought desperately. He was ranked higher than anyone else in this courtyard. He had the authority.

But the cut on the side of his head itched, and Bak was suddenly hit with the realization that he _didn’t_ want to fight over this. He didn’t have it in him. He just wanted to find Komui, say his piece, and like Reever had so helpfully put it, forget this whole weekend had ever happened.

Bak massaged his temples slowly, exhaustion and dejection congealing together like a sticky, heavy weight under his ribs.

“Fine,” he said derisively. “If you won’t answer that question, then at least answer this.”

Reever looked at him warily.

Bak took a long, steady breath and hoped all the awful, tumbling emotions that had been roiling through his chest since last night would not show on his face.

“Does it … Does it have something to do with me?

Reever blinked. Then he _smiled_. It was a worn out little slip of a thing, but he actually chuckled and shook his head, and anxiousness pooled even deeper in Bak’s gut.

“Does this amuse you, Section Chief?” He demanded.

“Not at all sir,” Reever replied, but he was still smiling and somehow that irritated Bak even more.

“Reever I swear if you’re covering for him again, I will not hesitate to …”

“It has _everything_ to do with you,” Reever interrupted, and there was so much sincerity in his voice that it gave Bak pause.

“What…?”

“Just go to him,” Reever said earnestly. “ _Please_. He’s trying so hard to impress you, but if you could just sit down and work this whole misunderstanding out, he’d be so relieved.”

“ _He’d_ be relieved?” Bak repeated incredulously. “I’ve been trying to work out what’s been going through that head of his since day one!”

“ _Go_ to him,” Reever said again. “I don’t think he’ll be able to keep it to himself for much longer. Trust me.”

Keep _what_ to himself? Bak wanted to ask, but thought better of it. He had wasted enough time on riddles and romance these past three days.

He frowned, searching Reever’s face for a nervous tic, for a sign that Komui had put him up to this lie and that he was going to be made a fool of again, but could find nothing of the sort.

Bak pressed his lips together and sighed.

“I need to … I suppose I should head to the labs then,” he muttered at last, “but I’m still going to give him a piece of my mind,” he went on hastily, scowling when Reever looked at him with such an open expression of gratitude that it was almost _embarrassing_.

“And when I do,” he added loudly, turning on his heel before he could get even more flustered, “he’s going to wish that he had just come clean about everything in the first place!”

“Section Chief, _I found it_!”

There was a sudden sound of frantic splashing, as though Reever had tripped over his own feet getting to the edge of the fountain.

“Oh, thank _Christ_.”

Bak whipped around, intent on seeing what Johnny had unearthed to make Reever sound so relieved, but before he could catch a glimpse of this mystery object that had everyone so worked up a great shadow passed over them, as though the clouds were suddenly blocking out the sun, and he felt his heart stop.

 

* * *

 

“Section Chief…?” Johnny’s voice shook, his prize clutched tight in a white-knuckled fist.

There was a faint rumbling noise now, like the onset of thunder or the steady hum of a well-oiled industrial engine

Reever held his hand up, shielding his eyes as he turned to look for the shadow’s source. His lips moved, as though he were thinking aloud to himself, and then all of a sudden he scowled, shoulders tensing.

“I’m going to _kill_ him.”

Bak felt his own gaze being drawn upwards, fury suddenly sitting so tight in his chest he could hardly breathe.

“ _Komui_.”

And there it was, perched on the top of the building like a giant, hellish bird of prey. The cherry on top of the utter disaster that had been this entire weekend conference.

Conversations started trailing off all around them, as though everyone was too alarmed to even whisper.

_This_ was what the idiot had chosen to do with his time? Even after everything that had transpired yesterday?

The growing silence was deafening; Bak could feel his temper starting to buzz in his ears.

“Told you he wasn’t going to cry himself to pieces all Sunday,” Jiji suddenly spoke up, his gaze still fixed at the sky but his hand reaching out and making a beckoning motion at Rob.

“Death and destruction by robot, it is. Pay up.”

The robot suddenly went rigid, as though honing in on his voice, and then it crouched down and _leapt_.

Someone uttered a scream, and that was enough to shake everyone else out of their stupor.

People scattered, running up the steps or dispersing further out into the gardens, because when the robot hit the ground there was an awful, _screeching_ sound of metal on stone before the footpath cracked under its sheer tonnage.

Bak stumbled, clutching the balustrade before his feet were shaken out from under him, and when he righted himself what he saw only made him even more furious.

It would have been a fair statement to say that this robot was not at all like the Komurin series that Komui was so proud of. It scuttled about on sturdy shield-like legs like a crab, the roar of its powerful thruster engines winding down to a softer whirr as it steadied itself and hunkered towards them.

But that was not even the most obnoxious part of its design. No, that award went to the glaringly bright red hearts painted all over its exoskeleton, making it look as though it had leapt straight out of a matchmaker’s nightmare.

Bak suddenly, _desperately_ wished that the ground would swallow him up.

“Give it back,” a booming voice suddenly commanded, magnified tenfold by speakers on this monstrous creation that Bak couldn’t quite see. The robot made a menacing clicking noise.

He gaped at it. “Give _what_ back?”

“ _Give it back_ ,” the voice said again, louder this time, as static popped and crackled in the backdrop.

Johnny suddenly stumbled past him, nearly falling flat on his face on the landing. His hands were still clutched against his chest as though whatever he was holding onto would act as a talisman against this madness. He cast a frantic look behind him.

Jiji, Rob and Cash made violent shooing motions, urging him forward. But Reever, Bak noticed, was glaring so hard at the robot it looked as though he would gladly take his handgun out of its holster and shoot it in its soft spots if only he could _find_ them.

It was a sentiment he could appreciate.

Johnny edged closer towards the robot, his hands held up as though in surrender and his legs shaking so badly it was a wonder he was walking at all.

“Chief? Is that you?” He called out anxiously, as though it could be anyone _else_ , Bak thought. The robot had gone very still at his approach, like it was _watching_ and waiting for the perfect moment to strike. Johnny cleared his throat.

“We, er … we found what you lost yesterday, see?” He held his hand up, but it was still balled tightly into a fist so Bak could not see what he was holding. The robot made a curious whirring noise.

Johnny laughed nervously. “Exactly! So you don’t have to worry anymore okay?” He added, the shadows looming and consuming him as he shuffled past the robot’s gigantic legs and moved towards its core. No one even dared to gasp.

“I think you should have this,” Johnny finished up, lifting himself up on his tiptoes and holding his hand up towards the robot’s core.

“It’s important to you, right? It’s not too late. You can … you can still do this. He’s right here, look!” He added, pointing back at Bak, whose hackles immediately rose in indignation.

That little traitor!

The robot lifted its “head” and stared at Bak, no doubt analyzing and collecting data from his person. He bared his teeth at it, hoping it realized just how _furious_ he was with its master.  

Then it _beeped_ and squatted itself down so quickly that Reever made an abortive movement forward, his face frozen in alarm.

But the robot had not crushed Johnny. Instead, the glare of his thick glasses was now illuminated by a small pilot light as a compartment hissed open, bearing down on him expectantly.

Every single survival instinct still intact in Bak screamed at him that this was a very bad idea on all sorts of levels, but Johnny clearly did not share the same reservations, because he looked up at the robot with relief and stuck his closed fist inside the open compartment. When he pulled it out again, his hand was empty.

The compartment slammed shut with finality as the robot straightened back up. Johnny grinned up at it anxiously.

“There now Chief, that’s better isn’t it? So why don’t you power down and get out of that robot so we can sort this whole thing out before …”

The robot lifted one of its front legs and brought it back down with a crash. The ground _shook_.

Johnny leapt backwards, his eyes wide on his face like he was a step away from swallowing his own tongue.

“Or not,” he added hastily, his voice pitched high with fear as he scrambled out of the way as the robot stepped over him, marching towards the stone steps, where Bak was still clutching the balustrade like a lifeline.

“ _Bak-chan_ ,” the metallic nightmare thundered, catching the attention of everyone within a twenty metre radius, because then all eyes were on him and Bak thought he might actually die right there on the spot.

“You wanted to talk?” It demanded, and the robot’s rounded dome-like head folded back like a fan, exposing its cockpit and the mad, grinning face of Komui Lee.

“Then let’s talk,” Komui said, his voice now pitched at normal levels as he leaned over the control panel, looking at Bak so intently it was almost frightening.

There were dark circles under his narrowed eyes, his grin somewhat forced, and there was simultaneously a feeling of both immense exhaustion and an anxious sort of desperation that made Bak move a little further up the stone steps, his own mouth puckered into a scowl.

“No,” he said darkly, and the grin slowly slid off Komui’s face.

“No?” He parroted back at Bak, frowning now. “But you said …”

“I’m not going to do a single thing until you get down from there!” Bak snapped, his temper getting the better of him as he gestured sharply at the robot.

Komui looked affronted. “How can you say that, Bak-chan?” He demanded, “My LoveBot is going to fix everything!”

“Love-your … what now?” Bak exclaimed, wrinkling his nose in disgust.

“My LoveBot!” Komui said impatiently, his hands flying over the controls. The robot hunched over and made a terrifying revving noise. Smoke bellowed out of its back thrusters as a tiny hologram chart came to life in front of Komui’s face, making him look even more sickly and unhinged than before.

“I figured that if I could download my entire personality into the Komurin series, then what was stopping me downloading the spectrum of my entire emotional range into a robot built for romance?”

“ _Romance_?” Bak repeated shrilly.

“Wait till you see this,” Komui went on as though he hadn’t heard him, moving the robot back a little and tucking a couple of its shield-like appendages away. The black holes of two arm cannons pointed skywards.

“Standby,” he said cheerfully, and Bak’s entire face went white. He clapped his hands over his ears.

The cannons went red hot and burst open, missiles ripping through the air with such force that people ducked, shielding their heads.

_He’s going to kill us all_ , Bak thought wildly, as the missiles continued to whistle up past the highest tower. _He’s finally snapped and plans to take the entire building down with him_.

The missiles exploded, raining down shards of colourful light in the shape of a heart like …

“Are those … fireworks?”

“Isn’t this great?” Komui asked, throwing his arms up triumphantly as more missiles were shot into the air and continued to pop all around them.

“Do you like it? I know you do, I can tell. Section Chief Reever said you wouldn’t, but I know you better than that. Oh! Check this out!”

He slammed his hand down on another button and Bak braced himself, wondering what other horrors the robot was hiding under its shell, when something white and alarming shot out of its rear tubes. It _squawked_.

“Did you seriously cram a _pigeon_ into that robot?” Bak shouted, forced to raise his voice over the sound of fireworks exploding over his head.

“Pigeon? It’s a dove!” Komui replied, as said dove flapped frantically over the robot, dropping feathers everywhere, “and I have eleven more!”

“You _what_!?” Bak exclaimed, but it was too late.

Eleven more screaming birds suddenly launched out of the robot like small, white tennis balls, positioned overhead in an arc.

“Well, he’s cracked,” Jiji said, hanging over the balcony on Bak’s left and holding his hand out to Cash now. “It was bound to happen sooner or later. Bet’s off - oww!”

He rubbed his arm, making a face at Reever who had pushed him aside and was now frowning up at the robot, his hands cupped over his mouth.

“Chief!” He called out. “Stop fooling around! You wanted to tell the Director something important, right?”

Both Komui and Bak turned to stare at him, eyebrows raised. The robot was still braced against the ground, shooting fireworks up into the sky like a crude missile launcher while a flock of angry doves shrieked overhead.

Then Komui’s whole face lit up. “You are absolutely right, Section Chief Reever!” He said delightedly, “We’ve wasted enough time. And now the mood is perfect!”

Bak gave Reever a look that suggested that he felt that _he_ had gone completely mad as well.

Komui patted around his pockets. Then he pulled out a small stack of notecards and squinted at them.

“Right then. The big moment.” He cleared his throat. “Here at last. It’s fine. We’re going to be fine. Bak-chan, I …”

“I’m sorry,” Reever said lowly, hopping down the steps and lifting Bak to his feet while Komui started waxing lyrical about all his virtues and an embarrassing play-by-play retelling of their relationship. “I didn’t think he’d … well I didn’t think it would end up like this.”

“I’m not sure I believe you,” Bak told him grumpily, dusting himself off and glaring up at the robot and the huge spectacle it was making.

“We have to get rid of that thing.”

“Then I wish you the best of luck,” Bak said sarcastically, already having half a mind to go back through the Ark Gate to China and let Komui lay waste to HQ. This wasn’t his problem.

Was it honestly so much to ask to come to England and have a perfectly relaxing time hashing out mundane Order policies? _Renee_ never had to deal with this nonsense.

Reever sighed, dragging his hand back through his hair defeatedly. “Sir, I … he means well. You know that.”

“He means to destroy what’s left of the eastern gardens, I think.”

“I know it’s a lot to ask, after … well, after everything that’s happened,” Reever forged on, “but we could really use your help.”

Bak looked at him incredulously. “ _Now_ you want my help?” He hissed. “You should have come to me before this even began! I don’t understand what he’s trying to accomplish!” He added, gesturing at Komui, who was fumbling through his notes and dropping the occasional card, no doubt helped along by the fact that his robot was swaying from side to side as though this were the best thing to happen to it all day.

“I thought he was done treating this … treating _us_ like a joke,” he went on wretchedly, “but then he goes and burns half the gardens to the ground and now this … I don’t even _know_ what this even means!” He gestured violently at the robot.

“Why does he insist on playing these silly games?”

“You mean like how you’re completely honest with him?” Reever muttered, realizing the slip of tongue when Bak rounded on him with a dirty look.

“Ah, sorry sir that … er, that came out wrong.”

“Oh, I’m sure,” Bak said darkly, and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Well since we’re airing out all the dirty laundry, you might as well come out and say it. I’ve already had my ego crushed by teenagers _twice_ in the past two days. Hit me.”

Reever looked at him for a long moment. “He loves you,” he said at last. “He just … doesn’t always know how to express that without doing something over the top and ridiculous because you push him away or shut him down when he tries to be serious about it.”

Bak frowned. “I don’t … I, did he tell you that?”

Reever just raised his eyebrows.

Bak scowled at him. “I am _not_ discussing this with you,” he said in the sort of way that made Reever think he’d hit the nail square on the head.

“You’ll at least discuss it with the Chief, I hope.”

“Sure,” Bak replied, rolling his shoulders and glaring at the robot head-on. “With whatever parts that are left when I’m through with him. What’s the plan?”

Reever frowned a little at that, but didn’t press the issue.

“We’ve got some anti-robot … equipment,” he said carefully, holding his hands up when Bak narrowed his eyes. “Don’t look at me like that, it shouldn’t do more than overload its circuits and destroy its engine so we don’t have to deal with _that_ scuttling all over the building.”

He jerked his head towards the robot, which was enthusiastically letting loose more fireworks as Komui really got into stride. Bak made a face.

“Fair enough,” he muttered. “And where _is_ this ‘equipment’?”

“The storage rooms in the western wing,” Reever replied, shrugging when Bak’s eyebrows shot up. “Look, we’ve only just spent a little over two months in this building, all right? Some stuff is just a little more … unpacked than others, that’s all.”

He had a point, Bak thought, though given Komui’s track record in hindsight it would have done no harm to have any and all anti-robot devices unpacked _first_.

“All right, so you’re going to get that all set up. Fine. Where do I come in?”

“We need to get the robot to the western courtyard for this to work,” Reever replied slowly. “So…”

Bak frowned harder at that, turning his head to look once more behind him.

“You want me to make it mad.”

“Well not _too_ mad,” Reever said carefully. “I’m rather hoping to keep most of HQ intact if we can. Central’s got enough red tape around us as it is, so maybe if you just ask nicely ...”

Bak snorted at that, and looked at the robot thoughtfully. “... You don’t think it shoots anything other than fireworks, do you?” He wondered.  

Reever looked grim. This did not ease Bak’s fears in the slightest.

“Hard to say with the Chief,” he said at last, and actually had the gall to clap Bak’s shoulder bracingly. “My advice would be to run.”

“I will see all your salaries cut for this,” Bak muttered darkly, shrugging out from under Reever’s hand and stalking down the steps into the shadow of the beast.

“I understand your frustration sir,” Reever called out after him, “but we already more or less work for free so that threat doesn’t have as much ‘oomph’ as it should.”

“Oomph!” Bak repeated indignantly to himself, scowling up at the robot as he came to a halt. “What nerve. I’ll show _him_ ‘oomph’.”

Then he drew his foot back and kicked the robot in one of its shield-like legs.

The metal was solid, but the clanging noise it emitted rang something _awful_ and Komui actually stopped halfway through his speech and peered down over his control panel, frowning.

“Bak-chan!” He exclaimed, looking offended, “Don’t do that. You’ll hurt its feelings! And scuff the paint!”

_Well, this is it_ , Bak thought. _Time to make ten tonnes of metal and murder mad beyond all reason._

“I want to break up.”

The robot froze, cannons and shrieking birds abruptly falling silent. Komui raised his eyebrows, his glasses slipping a little down his nose.

“What…?”

Reever inhaled sharply behind him but he didn’t speak up or try to smooth things over and for that Bak was grateful. Priorities had been set, and they had a robot to disarm by any means necessary.

“I’ve thought it over and I think it’s time we brought an end to all this … this _nonsense_ ,” Bak said a little louder, lifting his chin and looking Komui dead in the eye, letting all the anger and resentment and _hurt_ in his words boil over.

Maybe this wasn’t the time or the place to bring it up, but if he was going to get crushed by a rampaging robot in order to save the lives of thousands then what the hell. No time like the present.

He wasn’t even a hundred percent sure he _wanted_ to break up, but the longer he looked at the hunk of steel towering over him, the more he wanted nothing to do with it _or_ with Komui Lee. Ever again.

“That’s what I wanted to talk about after the conference,” Bak went on, and was very proud of himself for not jumping even when the robot’s rear thrusters started humming furiously at this announcement.

“I’m _tired_ , Komui. We can’t keep doing this. It’s driving me insane. Please, just … Stop making a scene, send that robot back to whatever pit you pulled it out from, and get back to work.”

“But …” Komui said in a small voice, looking wildly at his robot as though he couldn’t possibly conceive how it could be offensive in any way. “Bak-chan, I didn’t finish … I still have to tell you …”

“ _Stop_ ,” Bak said firmly, holding his hand up to stave off any further protests. People were starting to whisper again, now that the din of the fireworks was not blaring overhead.

Oh, the rumours this would spread, he thought tiredly. Bookman Jr. was going to have a field day.

“It’s over.”

“You can’t …” Komui said desperately, dropping his note cards and scanning the robot’s control panel frantically. “You don’t understand, I need to fix this. If you would just _listen_ to me for once, I could …”

Bak slammed his fist into the robotic leg he was standing closest to. It stung something fierce on his knuckles but he didn’t care. He was sick and tired of being party to Komui Lee’s plans without being aware of what exactly those plans consisted of.

They were going to put an end to this awful weekend on _his_ terms.

“It’s _over_.”

They stared at each other for a long moment.

Then Komui lifted his head, a snarl curling his lips.

“ _Yao mou gau cho ah_!” he snapped, his native Cantonese sharpening his tongue in a way that English never could. “I am so … Why is it so _hard_ for you to just listen to - Oh, that is _it_.”

He slammed his hand down on the control panel with a crack. The robot rumbled, its dome-shaped head coming up and closing over Komui’s thunderous face like plate armour.

There was an ominous click, like a gun being cocked.

“Annnd that’s our cue,” Reever said, and though Bak did not turn around to look at him, he could hear footsteps beating against the stone as they rushed for the doors and the slight ‘hurk’ Johnny made in his throat as someone grabbed the back of his lab coat and pulled him along.

_Boom_.

The robot leaned down into his space, one of its shield-like legs digging into the earth like a crude spade. Bak could see his own grim reflection in its dome-like head. Smoke was billowing out of its exhausts like a volcanic cloud. It made a low, dangerous beep. He squared his shoulders.

“This is _not_ over,” came Komui’s distorted, projected voice, blaring in his ears like thunder. “Not until we talk. And we _are_ going to talk, Bak-chan.”

“Do you know who you’re talking to, Komui Lee?” Bak demanded, putting on the most high-born, head-of-a-noble-and-illustrious-clan voice he could muster. “I don’t have to do _anything_ you tell me.”

Komui laughed at that, sounding both reckless and slightly mad and every fight-or-flight impulse in Bak was screaming at him that he would do well to start running.

“Fine. We’ll do this the hard way.”

Bak swallowed hard. He shifted his right foot carefully behind him and leaned back, his heart racing in his ears like a locomotive.

Then he _bolted_ , taking off across the grounds as people screamed and scattered, the LoveBot’s metallic roar echoing behind him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To be continued. 
> 
> Well we’re almost at the end! I’m sorry for the long wait, apparently juggling full-time work AND trying to write a 30K+ fic isn’t as easy as I thought it would be!


	4. Endangering

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The third ring: the fall.

Bak’s lungs were burning.

He didn’t have to look behind him to know that Komui’s monstrous creation was loping after him like a wild animal chasing down its kill, engines humming loudly behind it.

His only saving grace was that this robot was obviously not built for pursuit. It was weighed down by heavy artillery and even its appendages seemed better suited for defence than grabbing or giving chase.

That did not make it _slow_ by any means, as it was still following him with a relentlessness that could only be described as terrifying, but that did not mean that Bak would give Komui the satisfaction of catching him either.

He counted the arched windows as he raced past, purely to calculate how far away he was from the western gardens he told himself, and definitely not because it was the easiest way to keep an eye on the robot a few metres behind him.

“Bak-chaaan,” came Komui’s distorted, booming voice over the speakers, menacingly lilting.

Bak ducked his head, running faster. God, he hoped Reever’s plan worked.

“Why don’t you want to talk to me, Bak-chan?” Komui demanded, his voice still wavering on that uncertain line between playful and dangerous.

“Aren’t you always saying that we should always do that first before making any hasty decisions?”

The robot rumbled, its vibrations reverberating like thunder in Bak’s bones. A shadow loomed over him, blocking out the shape of his own silhouette. His heart leapt into his mouth.

“I wonder,” Komui called out behind him, “why does that philosophy apply to everyone but _you_?”

The thruster engines roared, deafening in his ears and Bak barely registered his own white face in the reflection of the windows before dropping to his knees and curling his arms over his head.

The robot’s shadow sailed over him like a passing cloud, the circuitry lining its underbelly flashing like tiny stars for an instant before he could see the sky again, and by then it had landed on the path in front of him, earth and concrete shattering underfoot as it righted itself.

Bak quickly pushed himself back up onto shaky feet and cast his eyes around wildly, a plethora of escape routes running through his head based on his mental map of the grounds.

He could get to the Western Wing and the gardens by extension if he ran through the building itself. There was no way Komui would be able to follow him. On the other hand, it would probably make things even _worse_ if the robot started smashing windows to try and get to him like a cat trying to claw a mouse out of its hole.

Then he glanced the other way, at the vast sea of trees that lay beyond the perfectly trimmed hedges and flowering bushes. It was the longer route, but the only thing that would be getting destroyed in that case would be the scenery.

He gritted his teeth and cupped his hands to his mouth, both adrenaline and fear pumping through his blood as he thought about how to get the robot to follow him.  

“Hasty decisions?” he shouted. “That’s rich coming from the self-centred jerk who’s chasing down his ex with a giant death robot just because he can’t handle being dumped!”

The robot froze, its dome-shaped cockpit swiveling around to look at him like an overlarge owl turning its head. Bak’s mouth dropped open a little in surprise.

“What are you talking about?” Komui demanded indignantly. “You’re not my ex!”

Right, well. Maybe he wouldn’t be getting as much of a head start as he thought.

Bak bounced on his heels and cast one last longing look at the windows. Then he turned off the path and dashed through the bushes, heading for the trees.

Looks like they were going to be doing this the hard way after all.

“ _Bak-chan_!” Komui snapped, the LoveBot’s joints making angry hissing sounds as it turned itself around, static shrieking through the speakers as though he was shouting into a microphone.

“You’re not my ex because you didn’t dump me! No one is getting dumped! Bak-chan!”

Bak forged ahead, pushing his way past the topiary and hurtling into the undergrowth.

“Stop _running_!” Komui exclaimed, his voice thinning out as Bak put more distance between them. “That’s all you ever do! You run because you’d rather do that than sit down and actually _talk_ to me about what’s bothering you! Well not this time!” 

There was an almighty crack of splintering wood, and Bak tripped on a slippery patch of moss, the air rushing out of him with a pained gasp as he fell flat on his stomach in the dirt. He turned his head.

The LoveBot was peering through the thick trees, shield-like legs spread wide to hold the foliage apart, its headlamps scanning the forest floor like a searchlight before landing on Bak’s sprawled out form. The light blinked red.

Bak scowled, shielding his eyes from the glare.

“So this is my fault?” he demanded, patting the earth around him with his hands for something to grab and curling his fingers into the soft, wet soil as his temper flared. “You’re blaming _me_ for running away when you always solve your problems like _this_?” He gestured to the robot violently.

“I could solve everything right now if you just _let_ me!” Komui said impatiently. “Why won’t you let me?”

“Because this is not how normal couples handle disagreements in their relationships!”  Bak yelled, his fingernails scrabbling against the rough surface of a rock as he hefted it into his palm and threw it as hard as he could.

It smashed into one of the LoveBot’s headlamps, the searchlight bearing down on him flickering and shutting off, throwing him back into the safe, cool shadow of the trees.

The robot drew back in alarm, making an incoherent squeal of annoyance, swiveling the broken headlamp back and forth as though that would fix it. The trees groaned as it let go of their branches, moving back into their original positions and obscuring Bak from view.

“Stop _hitting_ it!” came Komui’s offended, muffled voice as Bak dusted his hands off on his already dirt-stained pants and scrambled deeper into forest, following the tree line to the western gardens. “It never did anything to you!”

“Besides making me run for my life, you mean?” Bak muttered to himself, rubbing his bruised ribs and taking in a sharp breath.

He was fit, but he was no soldier. There were only so many times one could take being forced down on the ground before being unable to get up at all, and he only hoped he would make it to his destination before that happened.

There were … other ways of course, to stop a robot in his tracks, but the situation wasn’t so grim that he had to resort to _that_. He just had to have faith that Reever would hold up his end of the plan.

“Get _back_ here, Bak-chan!”

The ground shook as a tree hit the ground.

Bak stumbled. He kept running through the thicket, pushing obstacles out of his face as he went, even as low-hanging twigs and branches tore at his uniform.

The robot was matching him pace for pace now like an angry, wounded beast, racing through the grass and making lunges at him through the tree line with its legs.

“I’m not done with you yet!”

The levelled trees fell like creaking dominoes behind him, trying to flush him out into the open. This was insane. He had to get out before Komui tore down half the forest.

Almost there, he thought, as the pine needles and leaf litter under his pounding feet started giving way to hard-packed earth and he reached the side of a grassy knoll.

It all sloped downwards from here, towards the hedges and the gardens. He could also see the marble sheen of a fountain in the distance, identical to the one in the eastern grounds, bubbling water sparkling in the morning sun.

Relief filled his chest. This nightmare was almost over.

“Got you~” Komui sing-songed and Bak turned just in time to see a giant shield-like leg descend upon him, as though intending to scoop him up and deliver him to wherever Komui was sitting in its monstrous shell.

It was a split second decision. He looked down at the row of flowering bushes lining the outer perimeter of the gardens. He could clear it if he managed to get enough momentum.

He dodged, narrowly missing the LoveBot’s leg as it hit the ground where his right shoulder had been only seconds ago, digging deep into the earth. Then he hit the ground running, charging down the knoll with a speed that could almost be described as self-destructive.

“Bak-chan wait, that’s dangerous!”

The thruster engines screamed to life, to the sound of metal legs bulldozing their way through the grass. It was getting closer. It was _following_ him.

He realized then, why Komui had tried to warn him off. The closer he got to the border, the more he could see that the bushes in front of him weren’t just lined with flowers, but with thick thorns too.

If he jumped over the bushes now it was just going to do the same, and he would end up smashed against the next hedge like a fly on a windshield.

But if he stopped now it would surely run him over.

Bak clenched his jaw. Oh, this was going to _hurt_.

He covered his face with his arms and threw himself forward into the nearest bush, engine fumes ruffling his hair as the LoveBot came to a screeching halt just inches from him and launched itself skywards. It landed on the hedge in front of him, perfectly perched for all of five seconds before the structure collapsed inwards under its weight with a snap.

Pain lanced up his arm. There were thorns everywhere, hooked into his clothing, the sharp tips piercing through the fabric like needles and and scratching at his limbs. He winced.

A shadow loomed over him, the sun winking off the top of a large metallic dome.

“You shouldn’t have done that,” Komui chastised, and Bak suddenly felt one of the robot’s shield-like legs slide under his feet, uprooting both him and the bush he had fallen into.

Bak gasped for breath. He tried to force himself upright and then realized with horror that his uniform jacket was now twisted in the thorny branches. He wrenched his arm forward, hissing as the thorns scored thin bloody lines on his skin.

“Bak-chan, please. Stop being stubborn. There’s nowhere left for you to run.”

Bak gritted his teeth and wrenched his arm again, pulling it out of his jacket’s sleeve. Then he turned on his side and pulled his other arm free, crouching down for balance as both he and the bush were lifted further and further off the ground.

“No,” he said darkly, as his scowling, muddy reflection became visible in the robot’s domed head, “there’s nowhere left for _you_ to run.”

“ _Fire_!” a voice shouted, echoing from the central point in the western gardens, and Bak steadied himself, hands biting into the thorny branches as a shot went off like a cannon, a bright white particle beam bursting through the hedges in front of him and grazing two of the robot’s legs before hitting and burning a hole into the grassy knoll behind them.

Bak gaped at it in alarm. 

The LoveBot shrieked and dropped its prize, domed head swiveling around again to look for the source of the blast. Bak slid to the floor and pushed his way through its stumbling legs, his heart pounding. 

“ _Hey_!” Komui exclaimed, as his creation darted around uncertainly. Some of its hard exoskeleton had been blown off by the beam, the wires and circuitry underneath fizzling away angrily. “Hey, what gives?”

Then he looked up at the fountain in the distance and frowned.

“So you want to play it like that, do you? Fine.”

 

* * *

 

“What the hell was that?” Bak demanded, climbing through the smouldering holes the beam had made in the hedges as he made his way towards the fountain.

“You said you were only going to overload its circuits!”

“Did we miss?” Johnny asked in bewilderment, looking down at the controls of what indeed looked like a very large, very dangerous anti-robot weapon, and only drawing Bak’s ire further.

The equipment had been set up on the stone steps near the fountain, pointed towards the hedges, wafts of smoke drifting up from its rumbling engine. 

“Of course you fucking missed!” Bak screamed. “What the _hell_ were you thinking… I could have _died_!”

“Huh,” Reever said, sounding just as perturbed as Johnny about this development. He took his reading glasses out of his pocket and stuck his nose behind a long piece of crumbling parchment, which was no doubt some kind of instruction manual.

“That’s odd. I could have sworn that it was fixed to ‘stun’ and not ‘destroy’ … Do the calibration settings look all right back there?”

“Everything looks good back here,” Rob called out from the back, tapping the glass face of the pressure gauge. “Though we’ve had this thing in storage for so long. I think the dust might be affecting the system.”

“Tell prince loudmouth he ought to take his white knight in shining robot armour and skip through the daisies a little longer,” Jiji added, puffing as he heaved a huge spanner under the large coil of wires that was snaking up the steps and back inside the building.

He tightened a bolt that was attached to one of the rubber tubes feeding into the engine and wiped sweat from his brow.

“If you’re going to be changing gears then this baby’s going to need a few minutes to get herself all charged up again. Maybe we can meet him again in the southern courtyard.”

“We don’t have that kind of time,” Cash snapped, popping a panel off the weapon and rolling up her sleeves, as though she intended to get arms-deep in its guts.

_BOOM_.

Bak stumbled backwards.

A large, round object had crashed right in front of the Order. It was the Lovebot, its legs drawn flush against its body, making it look like a white wrecking ball with heart motifs painted all over its scratched hull. Then it rumbled, beeping dangerously, and he watched, frozen, as it started to uncoil itself like a spider stretching its legs.

[The cockpit’s panelling hissed and the plate armour dome slid back, revealing Komui at its centre. His mouth was wobbling in a terrifying semblance of a smile. He looked half-mad.](http://i.imgur.com/DmBBcmw.png)

Bak took another step back, bracing himself. The robot was standing right where the anti-robot equipment had been put into place, with the marble fountain acting as the only remaining buffer between them.

“ _Reever_ ,” Bak called out warningly, circling the fountain slowly. The robot was matching his steps.

Reever scrunched the roll of parchment he had been reading and threw it aside.

“Destruction’s gonna have to do,” he said grimly, shooing Johnny aside and taking his place at the controls. He peered down the scope. “Maximum output.”

“But sir…!” Johnny protested.

“I’ve got a clear shot, it’s fine!” Reever replied, flipping a few switches and aiming the barrel a little more to the right. “It’s already sustained damage. It’s not going to be able to do much if it’s missing a few legs.”

“No, sir … _look out_!” Johnny exclaimed, and gave Reever a mighty shove onto the stone pavement just as thick, reinforced cables shot out of the LoveBot like snakes and grabbed onto the anti-robot weapon with steel-edged claws.

“No more interference,” Komui snapped as the cables reeled themselves back in. The anti-robot weapon groaned, scraping the stone as it was dragged forward, and there was a sickening crack as live wires were pulled from its sockets, ripping it straight from the motorized cable reel that had been feeding into it.

“No more games,” Komui went on, never taking his eyes off Bak even as the cables went taut, launching it into the air above their heads, its wires still crackling with electricity.

“And no more running,” he finished darkly as the weapon fell, hitting the stone basins of the fountain with the force of a hammer blow. The marble crumbled, hitting the water with a thundering splash. Huge chunks of stone sailed through the air and landed on either side of Bak, boxing him in.

Satisfied, the LoveBot straightened up again, its cables slithering back into its body.

Bak realized then that his mouth was hanging open. He moved forward furiously.

Komui held up his hands, warning off a tirade.

“We are going to talk,” he said firmly, “and _you_ darling, for once you are going to _listen_.”

He sounded like he was just about at the end of his rope over this whole ordeal and god, if that didn’t make Bak want to laugh something awful. A man perched in the pilot’s seat of a ten tonne robot had no business sounding so irritable as far as he was concerned.

Still, Reever’s plan had failed. The fountain was starting to leak water all over the path and the one thing he had left that he could use against the robot was not worth using. Not for something as ridiculous as this. Listening to whatever Komui wanted to get off his chest was a small price to pay to stave off more destruction of Order property.

“Do you think this is easy?” Komui asked him, and not for the first time that morning Bak saw how incredibly tired he looked. “Trying to make sense of a relationship that runs hot and cold so often that it makes your head spin?”

Bak frowned. “That’s not …” he began, but Komui cut him off.

“I don’t know what I’m doing!” he told Bak desperately. “I can do something acceptable one week but if I try to do the exact same thing a fortnight later you blow up at me and I don’t see you again for a month!”

“I don’t, that’s just …” Bak said uncertainly, trying to come up with an excuse and finding none. Komui shook his head.

“I know you,” he said wretchedly, and the robot too seemed to droop a little at his emotions, curling in on itself as though someone had scolded it. “And I know you think that I’m not taking _us_ seriously but I am! Probably even more than you do.”

“You’ve pushed and pulled for more years than I care to count and I let _you_ , because you light up the whole damn room when I do right by you and I would find a way to do it every single day for the rest of our lives if I could, but I can’t. Because I don’t know what’s going to set you off again Bak-chan, and I would rather have you think of the mistakes I make as backfired jokes than sit around wondering which date is going to be our last.”

“We don’t do dates,” Bak said very quietly, vaguely aware of having said something similar on that very first night when Komui had taken him out for dinner.

Komui laughed. It was an awful, exhausted sound.

“They’re _all_ dates, Bak-chan!” he exclaimed. “We don’t sit down and discuss budget cuts or import tariffs do we? We’ve been going on dates for years upon _years_ but you don’t like calling them that because you’re scared!”

Bak’s heart stuck hard in his throat. He swallowed.

“You’re scared of sticking it out. You’re scared of all of this actually meaning something so you run, but I’m scared too, okay? I’m scared I’m going to lose you again. And I …” Komui paused, and he looked so lost in that moment that it was heartbreaking.

“I can’t. I can’t lose you. Not like this. Not when it was all going so well.”

“Going so well…?” Bak repeated, coming out of a stupor. “You set an entire section of the grounds on _fire_!”

“Not on purpose!” Komui snapped and dragged his hands down his face. “Not … God, what do you think I’ve been trying to _tell_ you? Why do you always jump to conclusions?”

“Because you said the past was behind us!” Bak hissed, not wanting to bring up the issue of who should have been Head Officer for the umpteenth time when it was like a wound that was finally healing over.

“I don’t know what I did this time for you to even attempt to publicly humiliate me _again_ , but burning down the gardens is too much Komui Lee, even for you!”

“Humiliate you?” Komui said incredulously. “No, Bak-chan you’ve got it all backwards! I just wanted to tell you that I… that I ...” he trailed off suddenly, looking extremely uncomfortable.

Bak raised his eyebrows, frowning curiously. “Tell me what?” he wanted to know.

“I … dropped my note cards,” Komui replied faintly, patting his control panel a little awkwardly now. “Had a big speech prepared and everything, haha … just give me a minute … got to do it right this time …”

“What on earth are you mumbling about _now_ …?” Bak said exasperatedly, and that’s when it happened.

The tiny trickle that had been flowing from the broken fountain suddenly turned into a torrent as one of the lower basins finally gave out under the combined weight of cracked stone and pressure and tumbled over, hitting the LoveBot’s damaged legs and dousing them with water.

The robot leapt back from the flood and tried to shake the wet off its legs, but the reaction was instantaneous.

_[Warning: System failure]_

Komui went still, his face draining of colour. “No.”

_[Warning: System failure]_

“No!” he shouted, peering at the controls frantically as a tinny, robotic voice continued to issue its monotone warning. “No, no, no! What are you _doing_? I still haven’t told him! You’re going to ruin everything!” He slammed his fist down.

The LoveBot shuddered violently.

_[Autopilot override. Engaging Operating Function: Do-or-Die.]_

“Do or …?” Bak repeated in complete disbelief. “Komui!”

One of the headlamps suddenly slithered out. It stared at him. Bak stared back, holding his breath.

_[Target of affections confirmed. Cannons online.]_

The thruster engines hummed as the back panels opened up and the robot raised its cannons out of its sockets, the barrels already turning red hot. Then one dropped down and aimed at Bak.

_[Locked on.]_

“Bak-chan, _move_!”

Bak stared down the barrel of a cannon. He was still fenced in on either side from the debris that the LoveBot had thrown earlier. There was nowhere _to_ move. He dropped down behind a large chunk of marble and covered his head.

_[Firing in 3-2-1 … ]_

The cannons exploded. There was a sharp, whistling sound and then a familiar ‘pop’ overhead. Small, prickling embers and the charred remains of a fireworks rocket rained down on his head.

Bak peered over the top of his rock cover, his eyes going wide. The LoveBot was teetering uncertainly, the cannon that had previously been facing him aimed just a little higher than it had been previously, a thick rope of cable lassoed around its base.

Komui looked behind him, relief etching itself across his face. “Section Chief Reever!”

“I’m sorry, sir!” Reever shouted over the din of the engines as he, Rob and Johnny pulled at the cable, Cash and Jiji working frantically in the background to secure it to the motorized cable reel that the anti-robot weapon had been pulled from before.

“I know I said I was going to support you all the way in this endeavour, but you’re going to thank me for this later!”

“Turn it on, turn it _on_!” Johnny yelled in panic, and Cash punched a button on the powerboard.

“Get out of the way!” Reever ordered, and they scattered, letting go of the cable and jumping back.

The reel shrieked to life, spinning rapidly until the length of cable went tight, and the LoveBot lost its balance. It tottered, and then started tipping backwards with a slow, heaving groan.

“Bak-chan!” Komui exclaimed, clinging to the control panel for dear life as his creation started falling over. “I know you said you want to break up but I don’t care about our past! None of that matters anymore because I, we … we’re brilliant _together_ and that’s better than being brilliant alone, isn’t it?” 

“You idiot!” Bak snapped, digging his nails into jagged rock as he tried to lever his way out of his stone prison. His boots kept slipping on the wet marble. “You always have to be poetic at the worst possible time, don’t you? You’re not going to be anything but a smear on the pavement in a few minutes, so you had better get out of that death trap right this instant because I’m not through with you yet!”

Komui blinked at him owlishly and this time his smile was self-deprecating and so incredibly _fond_ that it momentarily wiped all the anxiety and exhaustion from his face.

“Unceremonious as always,” he sighed and then worried his lip, thinking.

“... Bak-chan, the truth is I just wanted to - ”

But Bak didn’t get to hear the end of that sentence, because in the next moment the plated dome came up behind Komui and his earnest expression changed to one of complete surprise as the cockpit’s cover slammed down, obscuring him from view and preventing any hope of escape.

“ _Chief_!” Reever shouted, but it was too late. The LoveBot hit the ground, cracking the stone steps completely under its weight. Spidery cracks formed in the ground floor windows, the sheer force of the fall rendering them close to shattering.

Bak felt his stomach drop to his feet.

The Lovebot lay still, its engines slowly falling silent. Reever and his team stared at it, their backs flush up against a side wall of the Order because moving any closer would mean slipping right into the crater the robot had created when it fell.

“Is it … is it over?” Johnny whispered, his voice muffled behind trembling fingers. They held their breath.

“ _Komui_!” Bak called out desperately, finally clambering over a piece of debris and gingerly trying to make his way over another. God, he hadn’t actually wanted the overenthusiastic moron to actually _hurt_ himself.

A headlamp flashed, like a great eye suddenly blinking open. Johnny whimpered.

_[Warning: Cannons compromised. Activating Tank Mode.]_

“Oh come _on_!” Jiji exclaimed, though his voice was almost immediately drowned out by a loud, droning rumble.

The LoveBot shifted, its gears grinding together painfully as it wobbled to its feet. It squatted down and they watched in horror as it started drawing its legs into its body, transforming once again into the smooth, round wrecking ball shape it had taken earlier when it had landed in front of the fountain.

_[Aborting mission. Dispute unresolved. Relationship in pieces. Programming new task: Seek and destroy. ]_

“Well the Chief was right about one thing,” Cash deadpanned, “It really _was_ created to mimic his entire range of emotions.”

Reever turned his head and gave her an exasperated look, but before he could even open his mouth there was a sickening crack and the whole building shuddered.

The LoveBot had rolled itself forward, slamming straight into the entrance to the Western Wing. Then it rolled down again, back into the heart of the crater, before revving up and starting the process all over again.

“What’s it _doing_?” Rob said incredulously, raising his hand to shield his eyes as fissures started to appear along the face of the building, causing plaster dust to start drifting down, “It can’t be trying to get _inside_ … can it?”

The robot slammed into the building again. An open window juddered loose and fell, smashing on the ground. A faint scream echoed down from the upper levels.

A guard poked his head out from a window above their heads then, looking for the source of the commotion. His face blanched white so suddenly at the sight that it was a wonder he didn’t fall over on top of them in a dead faint.

“Stop gaping and get back inside, you ninny!” Jiji shouted, cupping his hands to his mouth and startling the guard so badly he nearly dropped his spear out the window.

“Clear the area! Move everyone back to the centre of the building or you’re going to have a lot more to deal with than just trying to explain this to the architects!”

Reever stared at the robot, his hand outstretched over Johnny’s chest because every time it rolled into the building they would slip on the little flat surface they had left and needed to readjust their footing. If they fell into the crater now he had no doubt that they would be crushed.

He sighed, suddenly feeling tired down to his bones.

“It’s not trying to get inside,” he said flatly, looking over into the courtyard at Bak, who was halfway out of his stone cage, his dirt-streaked face puckered in confusion and alarm.

“It’s just doing what the Chief would do in a state of complete emotional distress.”

“You mean take down the entire building and everyone in it?” Jiji demanded, and then shook his head. “Yeah, sounds about right.”

“But how do we stop it?” Johnny exclaimed.

“Get Kanda,” Reever ordered, tapping Rob’s shoulder and inclining his head. Rob held his own hand out then, bracing Reever’s shoulder to balance him as he put his foot back against the wall and rolled up his pant leg, pulling his revolver out of the ankle holster strapped to his sock.

“Get Lavi,” he continued, drawing back the latch and popping open the cylinder to check his bullets before clicking it back in place.

“It doesn’t matter, just find any of the Exorcists that aren’t on a mission and tell them we need help ASAP otherwise we’re all going to be sleeping under the stars on piles of rubble tonight. I’ll try to keep it busy.”

“Sir, you can’t - ”

“I can and I will!” Reever snapped. “This is my fault. I let the Chief take things too far because he felt so strongly about this whole ridiculous engagement plan and I can’t let anyone else take the fall for it. You can help me _and_ Director Bak by getting help as quickly as possible!”

“But - ”

_[Thrusters to full power. Engaging Operating Function: Battering Ram.]_

Reever’s eyes widened. “ _Go_!” he shouted, and Cash nodded grimly, grabbing a piece of rubble in her hand and smashing it through the window just behind them.

The LoveBot made a horrible shrieking sound, sparks flying as it started spinning faster and faster, and before he could even shout another warning to his team as they clambered through the broken window it shot into the air like a bullet, hitting the side of the building with excessive force and shooting upwards, taking a huge chunk of bricks and mortar and glass with it as it went.

When it reached the very top of the building it launched itself skywards, its shadow passing over Reever’s stricken face. He took aim, looking for a groove or a broken piece of metal he could shoot at to get at its softer core but the LoveBot’s surface was smooth and impenetrable.

It hung in the air then, spinning in space for what could not have been longer than five seconds, but felt like an eternity. Reever took a step back, edging along the perimeter of the crater. His finger was shaking on the trigger.

Then the thruster engines turned white hot and the LoveBot hurtled back downwards with the force of a meteor.

Reever opened fire. The bullets pinged off its metallic surface like coins, but at the very least they were making a dent. He threw the revolver over his shoulder when it clicked empty and reached for the gun strapped to his other leg. He just had to keep scratching at that one spot. If he could disable one of its legs or slow it down it would buy enough time for help to arrive.

Bak was yelling something out to him, balancing on an unsteady bit of rock and clinging to one of the stone basins on the fountain now, but he could not make out what it was.

Reever glanced at him out of the corner of his eye to tell him to run but in that moment the LoveBot hit the pavement like a bomb and the world went white.

The shock wave hit him in the chest like a truck, throwing him backwards. He hit the wall and felt it crumble behind him in the blast wind, along with the entire outer wall of the building and half of the Western Wing’s main hallway.

Halfway across the courtyard Bak was also thrown back, the progress he had made suddenly all for naught as he slammed into a rocky pile of debris and cracked the back of his head against the stone. Sparks of colour burst in front of his vision. He slumped to the floor, gasping.

_[Scanning area. Object of affections not found. Engaging Battering Ram for Round 2.]_

“Round 2?” Bak groaned, clawing at marble with already raw fingers as he got to his knees. A wave of nausea crashed over him. His eyesight was blurring. Nothing was going to be _left_ if there was a Round 2.

Well … if something had to go then better him than an entire building full of people, right?

“Hey!” he shouted hoarsely, picking up a piece of broken brick and hurling it at the robot. “I’m right here you pile of scrap! You want me? Come get me!”

The robot turned at the sound of his voice and started rolling down the steps at a steady pace like a tank, the stone crunching and cracking beneath its weight and leaving a deep trail in the pavement. It paused at the opposite end of the fountain.

_[Verifying. Object of affections found.]_

“You really like the sound of your own voice, don’t you?” Bak sighed, pulling his hat off and running his hand back through his hair. He touched the bump on the back of his head and winced. “What am I saying…? Of course you do. Look who made you.”

_[Recalibrating Battering Ram.]_

“I’m still thinking about breaking up you know,” Bak said loudly as the LoveBot started spinning in place again, kicking up dirt and debris as its engines launched it back up into the air again, even higher this time it seemed, its gleaming white body catching the rays of the sun.

“Any normal person would,” he added, ripping the dark, shiny spirit stone off his hat and placing it carefully between his teeth like the guardian lions at the gates of the Imperial Palace.

_[Setting thrusters to overdrive. Achieving maximum height for final impact in 10 seconds.]_

“I mean a little peace and quiet isn’t so much to ask, is it?” Bak continued, patting his pockets and noting that he didn’t have anything remotely sharp on him. He realized of course, he might as well be talking to himself, not even because the robot was getting too far away to actually hear him, but rather because with the spirit stone in his mouth he couldn’t really form proper sentences anyway.

“I know you think paperwork is boring and _drab_ but it’s actually kind of enjoyable not running from giant robots for a change.”

There was a jagged rock just a little ways from where he was standing, jutting out from the broken fountain like a spear point. It was a wonder he hadn’t actually landed on it and done himself a worse injury, Bak thought, even as he limped over and dragged his hand jerkily over the stone. Blood bloomed across his palm.

He clenched his fist. Every part of him that had been raised to be a proper Chang was protesting wildly against this. The spirit stone was a last resort. A defense mechanism granted only to the greatest sorcerers in their clan. To use it like this would be a disgrace.

The LoveBot beeped overhead and stopped spinning. It almost looked like a lovely little balloon at that height, if balloons weighed ten tonnes and had a tendency to cause mass destruction when dropped.

_[Maximum height achieved. Stage 2: Start.]_

There was a loud crack in the air like a whip and the LoveBot dropped, hurtling back down at a frightening speed. Bak turned his face up and frowned. The panels at its base were turning red hot from the pressure. If that thing hit the ground now, it wouldn’t be just the outer wall that was going to suffer. 

_This is it Chang_ , he told himself, spitting the spirit stone out into his bloody hand and curling his fingers around it. _You wanted to finish what Komui Lee started and you got your chance. What are you going to do about it?_

He swallowed hard, cupped his hands around the spirit stone and pressed his lips against its cool, bloody surface.

“Guardian Deity,” he whispered, and the stone shone bright in his hands like a flaming pearl. 

“I’m sorry.”

_FWOOMPH._

A hard beam of light shot upwards as the stone rose out of his hands, magic crackling through his veins, crashing right into the falling LoveBot so hard that the sound of vibrating metal rang sharp and clear through the air.

“What the hell is this thing!?” Fou screamed the very moment that her mouth crystallized to allow speech. Her hands were pressed up against the robot’s underside, powerful magic and sheer strength acting to buffer the speed of its descent.

“Is this a _robot_!? Stupid Bak, what have you gone and done now?”

“Putting a stop to this!” he yelled back, curling his fingers stiffly around the brightly shining stone hovering in his hand.

“Are you insane, you bald idiot?” she shrieked, spreading her arms and legs further out as though that alone would be enough to cushion the fall. “Does it look like this thing is going to stop? Stand back, I’m going to launch it over the battlements!”

“No, don’t!” Bak exclaimed, holding his hands out to stop her. “You’ll kill him!”

Fou’s mouth dropped open. “Kill…? Oh great ancestors, your crazy ass boyfriend is in this eyesore, isn’t he. Is this why you don’t like to talk to me about your conference meetings?”

“If I told you about the awful weekend I’ve been having you wouldn’t believe me!” Bak snapped, and squared his shoulders, bracing his feet apart. He held the spirit stone up. “Just hold it steady!”

“Why!? You’re not seriously going to …” she trailed off and then her eyes got wide the closer she got to the ground because Bak was still showing no intention of moving. “Bak, you _stupid_ son of a - don’t you _dare_!”

Well it definitely wasn’t one of his greatest plans, Bak thought, as his white-faced reflection shone back at him in the robot’s hull, but the laws of physics had never let him down yet.

The spirit stone flashed a brilliant white, shining through the spaces of his fingers as he lifted his other hand and held it palm up, letting out a slow, measured breath.

_[Bracing for impact.]_

It happened in an instant. The robot crashed down a few scant inches above his head, hitting the magical barrier generated by the spirit stone with such force that upon impact it generated a sharp, spine-chilling noise. A large, shield-like leg twisted, popping slightly out of its socket, like a tin can slowly being crushed flat.

Tiny fissures ran through the earth. Bak could feel himself sinking, being pushed downwards by the blast wave. He tried to lift one of his legs and readjust his stance but it was impossible.

“ _Bak_!”

“Just trust me!”

It had been a good plan, but he had forgotten to take into account that HQ had been built on a cliff overlooking the sea, which meant that there were a number of hollowed out caverns beneath its surface.

At least, he had forgotten up until the very last moment, when without warning a chasm opened up in the earth, the centre of the impact crater beneath his feet crumbling away from topsoil to gravel until the very stone itself cracked open under the tremendous pressure of the LoveBot bearing down on him.

And so Bak fell down into the dark, followed by the half-crushed corpse of his robotic nightmare, Fou’s face frozen in shock being the last thing he saw before he hit the ground a long ways down and the world went black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To be continued.


	5. Unwavering

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The third ring: The light in the dark.

Everything hurt.

It was as though every inch of his body had been bruised or battered, like he had been slammed against a wall at a particularly high speed or dragged face down across a gravel path.

He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t form a coherent thought in his head aside from how much everything ached, but the pain filtered down through his consciousness, flaring up sharply when a pair of hands shook his shoulders roughly.

“Komui!”

The hands curled into the fabric of his uniform and pulled, flipping him unceremoniously onto his back.

Stones dug into his spine. He wanted to wince, but his mouth hadn’t quite caught up with his brain.

“ _Komui_!”

Firm, calloused fingers started to roam over the plane of his face, moving down his neck and across his chest. They were oddly sticky.

He could smell blood.

“Komui?” The bloody fingers cupped his face, thumbs smoothing across his cheekbones.

“Komui Lee, I swear to God if _this_ is what kills you after all the shit you’ve put me through I’ll fling your fool corpse onto the beach myself and let the seagulls pick your bones.”

Dark shapes were swimming behind his closed eyelids. The voice above him sounded as though it were on the other side of a thick pane of glass. Then a hand pressed down hard against his ribcage, squeezing the air from his lungs.

His eyes flew open, pain setting all his nerve endings on fire as coughs wracked his body, and the hand on his chest retreated almost as quickly as it had appeared.

It was dark; so dark in fact that for one wild minute he had to blink a few times to reassure himself that he had not gone blind. The air was damp and cold and he could feel earth and moss under his scrabbling fingers.

He rubbed his sleeve across his face and drew back, momentarily alarmed when he didn’t feel familiar frames resting on his face. His glasses must have fallen off somewhere, lost or crushed in the struggle.

He looked up. The shattered dome of a robot hung above his head, as though it had been broken open by force. Its long shield-like legs were now curled up like a dead spider, dug into the walls as though it had tried to drill straight through the earth but had come to an unexpected halt.

The entire structure loomed eerily out of the shadows, an emergency light on the robot’s control panel blinking a slow, feeble red, but his creation was showing no signs of movement. Tiny beams of sunshine were filtering through the spaces and cracks of its armour, watery and pale, as though the light had travelled a long way from the surface.

“Are we …” he began weakly, his voice trailing off into another gravelly cough.

“Buried alive more than six feet under the ten tonne corpse of a murder machine?” The voice from earlier replied irritably. “Yes.”

Komui lifted his head and peered into the darkness, where a thin beam of light had caught on the beautiful jeweled brightness of an ancient clan tattoo, the colours shifting with each laboured breath.

“Bak-chan…?”

“Well it looks like the fall didn’t knock your brain completely loose,” Bak muttered, sounding worryingly calm about the whole ordeal now that he was sure that Komui was still breathing.

Any other time Komui would have been wary about Bak keeping such a tight, bridled hold on his otherwise explosive temper, but right now the only thing he could feel other than relief was pain, and the thought that Bak might be feeling the same only made him feel _worse_.

Komui moved towards him, eyes trained on Bak’s bicep and the colours of his tattoos like a moth to a flame. Every shuffle of his wobbly knees on the rubble-strewn earth was agony, but he didn’t stop until they were almost nose to nose.

“Bak-chan,” he breathed again, and reached up blindly with filthy, dirt-stained hands. He drew his fingers across the shape of a stern jaw, over frowning lips and the plane of a pale cheek. The right side of Bak’s face was sticky in the same way that the hands that had shaken Komui out of unconsciousness had been, congealed blood drying on his hair and skin. His stitches must have split open.

It was like a concrete block had dropped right on top of his stomach. It wasn’t supposed to have gone like this, he thought miserably. This was not how he had planned to fix things. He should have just ended it right then and there in the eastern courtyard, but he had been too stubborn, too desperate to take on everyone’s advice on top of his own, and too scared to think straight when Bak had said it would be better for both of them if they went their separate ways.

To think it had come to this, when all he wanted was to prove to the world that he did in fact know Bak best and that their relationship was, for all intents and purposes, _perfect_. So perfect in fact, that it only made sense that they should be together for the rest of their lives.

And yet, every attempt he had made at romance had gone from bad to worse. Perhaps he didn’t know Bak as well has thought he did. Perhaps … that horrible compatibility test in the newspaper had actually been _right_ and things weren’t going to work out for the long-term after all.

Komui swallowed hard. He felt sick.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered against Bak’s bloody forehead.

A calloused hand touched his muddy face, feeling out the curve of his cheek.

“Are you all right?” Bak asked, his voice still irritable and tight but with an undertone of concern.

Komui sighed. “I’m fine,” he murmured, grazing his fingertips over Bak’s hand and squeezing it only as hard as he dared. 

“Good,” Bak said shortly, and gave his cheek a gentle pat.

Then his knuckles connected straight with Komui’s nose.

There was a dull crunch. Komui reeled backwards, fresh pain blossoming across his face like flashfire and blood pooling in his mouth where his teeth had connected with his split lip.

_Ah_ , he thought dully as he hit the ground, stars bursting in front of his eyes, _there it was_.

_The lit fuse._

“Are you happy now!?” Bak screamed, “Look at this! Look at where we are! God fucking dammit Komui I don’t even _know_ where we are!”

Blood was starting to dribble down his nose and run across his face. Komui took a deep breath through his mouth and started weighing out the pros and cons of getting up or pretending he had been knocked out cold.

“You could have killed yourself!” Bak was ranting, and oh _God_ he was coming over. Komui could feel his hands grabbing at his legs like claws.

“You almost killed a whole lot of other people! I nearly died _three times_ in the past two days! You had better have a damn good explanation for all this or that monster above our heads won’t need to slip and crush us because I’m going to wring your neck with my bare hands!”

Komui sat up, vertigo hitting him almost as hard and fast as that punch had been. It was almost too dark to see but Bak’s voice was echoing off the stone walls all around him, making his ears ring.

“I swear if you try and pull that line on me that this was just another mistake from one of your experiments I’ll have your hide! The Western Wing is in tatters! What about the conference? Do you know what’s going to happen if Central catches wind of this?”

He patted down his pockets and looked around frantically. There was nowhere to hide and a simple explanation wasn’t going to do at this stage. Bak was on the warpath and he sure didn’t look like he was going to start laughing now if Komui told him the whole story from the top. He had built up a full head of steam and the only way to stop him now was to completely derail his train of thought.

Komui clenched his fist tight around the ring box in his pocket and prised it open carefully with his fingers. He didn’t want to do it like this. There would be no grand speeches, no huge declarations of love and no impressive displays of affection.

No frills. No games. It would just be … them.

He sucked in another breath through his teeth, an awful realization finally dawning on him.

… Which was exactly what Bak had said he’d wanted over dinner on the very first night.

Komui covered his mouth with his hand and groaned, blood dripping through his fingers. What had he _done_.

He had to fix this right now, he thought wildly.

And this time he was going to do it _right_.

“Are you even _listening_ to me?” Bak snapped, grabbing at his shoulder and shaking it, “I can’t keep covering your ass for these sorts of things! If you want to get demoted then fine, but don’t expect me to make excuses for you when someone demands to know why there’s a big fucking hole in the courtyard!”

Komui grabbed his wrist and pulled it off his shoulder. It wasn’t easy, because Bak seemed determined to keep a death grip on him until he finished saying his piece.

“What, do you want to fight?” Bak demanded loudly, tensing when Komui’s hand slid down his wrist and cupped his palm. “Because you _know_ I’d win. Maybe a kick up your skinny, unrepentant ass will finally teach you a lesson - ”

Then Komui leaned in and kissed the tirade right out of his mouth, slipping the ring onto his finger.

Bak fell silent. Komui pulled away carefully, holding his breath.

He could feel Bak’s fingers sliding through his own, his thumb rubbing over his finger and getting a feel of the cool platinum band. He leaned in closer, hopeful.

Only to scoot back, yelping, when Bak bit him on the lower lip.

“Do you think a kiss is going to make this better?” Bak exclaimed, giving him a shove. “If you thought you could seduce me into agreeing with you _this_ time you’ve got another thing coming!”

Komui winced, running his tongue over his lip gingerly. “No, Bak-chan that’s not what … I just wanted to … your finger …”

“My finger?” Bak repeated incredulously and pulled his hand from Komui’s, his other hand feeling around the ring he couldn’t quite see.

“What the hell is this?” he hissed.

Komui cleared his throat. “It’s … well, you see …”

“Is this another one of your tricks?” Bak wanted to know. “How dare you stick another one of your awful devices on me! You know, I’ve just about had it up to here with you and your - ”

“Wait, don’t take it off!” Komui exclaimed. He would never find the ring again if it rolled away into a little nook or cranny.

Bak froze. “Why?” he said suspiciously. “What did you do?”

They weren’t going to get anywhere like this, Komui thought desperately, turning around and looking at the emergency light still blinking away slowly in the mangled remains of the LoveBot.

Light. They needed _light_.

“What did you _do_?” Bak shouted after him as Komui scrambled to his feet, adrenaline dulling all the aches and pains in his limbs as he hobbled over to the cracked dome of his robot and hoisted himself up into the cockpit.

“You can’t hide from me, Komui Lee!” he heard Bak say angrily as he rummaged around under the broken control panel and the upturned seat, using the incremental bursts from the emergency light to guide him.

He scrabbled for the hinge on the glove compartment and yanked it open. Blueprints and pages from the speech he had intended to give rolled out and hit him in the face before dropping away and rolling further into the wreckage. Komui shook his head and stretched his fingers out a little further, reaching.

_Please let it be there_ , he thought desperately. _Please_.

His fingers brushed against waxy paper moulded over a wire frame.

“This had better be good,” Bak told him darkly when Komui extricated himself from the robot and dropped back down onto the damp earth, his prize tucked close to his chest.

He brushed some dirt aside and placed it down carefully. Bak didn’t seem impressed.

“Is that another robot?” he demanded, squinting into the dark, “Did you put some kind of homing device on me for another robot?”

Komui said nothing to that. Instead, he reached inside his coat pocket and pulled out a rather squashed box of matches. He took one out and struck it alight.

A hand suddenly grabbed his sleeve, and for the first time since he had awoken Komui could see Bak’s pale, bloodied face and his wild grey eyes. He looked exhausted and close to tears, and Komui’s heart ached for him.

“Why are you lighting a match?” Bak asked, his voice suddenly pitched high with anxiety. “This thing on my finger isn’t a robot tracker is it. It’s some kind of remote detonation device. That robot could start leaking fuel any second now and when it does you’re going to blow us to kingdom come.”

He raised his fist again. It was shaking. “Well I won’t have it, you hear me? I don’t care what kind of person you think I am but if I have to knock you out cold to get both of us out of here alive, then by God I’ll do it.”

“I know,” Komui told him gently, peeling Bak’s fingers slowly off his sleeve.

Then he lowered the match, still holding Bak’s hand in his own.

The flame flickered, and then burned bright, lighting up the beautiful blue flower-shaped lantern he had placed on the ground. He blew the match out.

Bak stared at it openly, his expression completely bewildered in the soft light.

“A … lantern?” he said weakly, all the fight leaving him almost as quickly as it had come. “I don’t understand.”

“That was what I wanted to show you last night,” Komui told him quietly, still cupping Bak’s hand in both of his own and stroking the bruised, scraped knuckles with his thumb.

“They lit up the entire courtyard. I wish you could have seen it.”

Bak frowned. “So the fire …”

Komui chuckled bitterly at that. “In hindsight we should have been more vigilant,” he sighed, “but I was too caught up in trying to impress you on top of preparing for the conference that everything just got … out of hand.”

“But why lanterns?” Bak asked, his brows furrowing together. “I mean it’s lovely and all but a whole garden of them…? Komui, that’s just …”

“It was stupid,” Komui said wretchedly, “I spent the entire time trying to think of what _I_ liked and how great it was going to make _me_ feel if you enjoyed yourself as much as you did when we had dinner together that I … I never stopped to think about what _you_ liked.”

“You and your grand gestures,” Bak whispered wryly, and it was the first time that he hadn’t threatened or yelled at Komui in over twelve hours.

“Grand gestures,” Komui breathed out, a little tension lifting from his chest, “Right. Maybe I should change that to my middle name after all.”

The corners of Bak’s mouth lifted a little, but the expression was gone again by the time Komui blinked, replaced with a much more shrewd look. “And the robot?”

“What about the robot,” Komui asked, mock-indignant, “Robots are excellent at problem solving. Most of the time.”

Bak scoffed. “Don’t make me hit you again.”

Komui pressed his lips together and tried to smile. “Truthfully, I … the robot wasn’t supposed to do anything but put on a little show. I guess I thought I could fix the whole mess that happened last night if I could just make you smile again. But then ...”

Bak looked away. “But then I said I wanted us to break up.”

Komui shrugged a little awkwardly. “I think I just … well I kind of blanked out after that. I suppose I didn’t want to hear it. Not when it took us so long to come this far. _Do_ you want to break up?”

Bak looked uncomfortable. “Yes. _No_. God, I don’t know,” he said miserably. “I was just so _angry_ with you for keeping secrets from me and then there was the _fire_ and do you know sometimes I feel like the only Branch Director in this entire organization who can’t come to HQ without something going horribly wrong?”

Komui squeezed his hand. “You’re the only Branch Director who comes to HQ that makes a good day into an even better one.”

“Well I’m glad one of us is getting something positive out of my visits,” Bak muttered.

Komui looked down at the lantern and sniffed. He didn’t think Bak would appreciate it very much if any nose blood started dripping all over his hand.

“I know I can be petty,” he told Bak carefully. “I know we tend to get into these ridiculous, _awful_ fights where we drive each other crazy and nearly run our entire relationship into the ground every single time but … I love you. I adore you, and I’m sorry that I only ever seem to express that in ways that make you feel like you can’t tell me I’m making you uncomfortable.”

Bak made an abortive movement at that, and Komui held his hand even tighter, afraid he was going to pull away entirely but Bak just shook his head, looking frustrated.

“You’re ridiculous,” he said thickly, “and I hate that about you. How can you be so gifted and such a fool at the same time? It’s not _you_ I’m uncomfortable with.”

Komui blinked.

“You were right,” Bak told him scornfully. “I run away from serious changes in our relationship instead of dealing with them because it’s the only aspect of my life that I _can_ run away from. You tell me I’m brilliant and worthy of being adored but I’m not. And the fact that you think I _am_ ... that’s terrifying.”

“Bak-chan!” Komui exclaimed, sounding hurt, “You know that’s not true! You’re _wonderful_!”

“Stop _saying_ that,” Bak snapped. “How do you expect me to respond to this…? To the … dinners and the _lanterns_ and God, the giant romance-inclined robots. I don’t know what you’re trying to _say_ or what you’re trying to change and _that’s_ what makes me uncomfortable because …” he swallowed hard, “because I like what we’ve got right now and I _don’t_ need this. I don’t need to love you any more than I already do because it’s just going to make everything so much harder when you finally realize you’re better off with someone else.”

Komui stared at him. “Is that what this is about?” he asked. “You’re upset because you think we’re not going to last?”

Bak laughed. It was a miserable sound. “I don’t know if you’ve realized where you are recently, but _nothing_ lasts in this place, least of all relationships.”

“Then we’ll make it last,” Komui told him fiercely and slipped his hand off Bak’s, so that the diamond on his ring finger sparkled sharp and bright in the lantern glow.

Bak went rigid, his expression going completely blank, then confused and then finally settling on looking like his eyes were about to pop out of his head.

“Komui,” he began slowly, and Komui prayed he wouldn’t start screaming again.

“That’s not a remote detonator.”

Komui spluttered.

“No Bak-chan,” he confirmed, smiling brilliantly when Bak continued to look at him as though all his senses had left him entirely. “It’s not.”

“I …” Bak began and then shut his mouth, looking helpless. “What … You …”

Komui couldn’t believe it. His Bak-chan, who could rattle off an entire string of words like a machine gun when he got really fired up, at a complete loss for words. It was unprecedented.

“I’m sorry I tried to keep it a secret,” he said softly. “I wanted to make a weekend of it, to surprise you. I must have thought of a million different ways of bringing it up but nothing seemed, well … _grand_ enough.”

“I …” Bak said again, trying to work his jaw but no sound seemed to want to come out of his mouth. “You mean all this was for … Are you asking ....?”

“Yes,” Komui replied, and in that moment it didn’t matter that he hadn’t rehearsed any lines, or covered the great hall in a sea of flowers.

This right here, _this_ was the perfect moment.

“No,” Bak exclaimed suddenly, making another jerky movement as though he wanted to get to his feet and start pacing but Komui’s hand was the only thing tethering him to the ground. “No, no, _no_. You can’t … you can’t _possibly_ be asking what I think you’re asking. Please. _Please_ tell me you didn’t lay waste to half the grounds for _this_.”

“Okay,” Komui said, rubbing his thumb over Bak’s ring finger soothingly. “I didn’t lay waste to half the grounds for this. _Intentionally_ , anyway. Don’t worry, our vows will be _way_ more straightforward. Cross my heart.”

“What _vows_?” Bak shrieked, sounding like a kettle about to boil over. He couldn’t take his eyes off his own hand. “I can’t … _we_ can’t … Where did you get this? Did you _steal_ it?”

Komui clucked his tongue. “Honestly,” he said impatiently. “You and Reever both. Of course I didn’t steal it!”

“You can’t afford this,” Bak insisted, lifting his hand and shoving it towards Komui’s face as though he hadn’t gone and bought the ring himself before this whole mess had even started. “You have to take it back … we’ll get something else, I don’t need a _diamond_ …”

Komui frowned at him and opened his mouth to argue that there was no way he was going to do such a thing when a thought occurred to him.

“Get something else?” he repeated, and then beamed. “Does that mean you accept?”

Bak jerked backwards like he had just been shocked. He glared at Komui furiously, his mouth trembling fiercely.

Then a single tear fell from his sharp, overbright eyes, cutting a clear track through the grime on his cheek. He sniffed.

Komui froze, euphoria crumbling as his heart cracked wide in his chest.

“Don’t cry!” he exclaimed, wringing his hands fretfully as Bak blinked and another tear slipped down his increasingly blotchy face. “No, no Bak-chan, please don’t cry. I’m sorry! I was only teasing! You don’t have to give me an answer straight away! Take as long as you need to decide.”

Bak scowled and dragged the back of his other hand over his eyes.

“Why?” he wanted to know. Komui looked at him in surprise.

“Why what…?”

“Don’t play dumb, you asshole,” Bak hissed wetly, and wiped at his eyes again, though he only succeeded in smearing blood and dirt across his face.

“Why would you even want to … I’m not … You could have anyone else.”

“But I don’t _want_ anyone else,” Komui said incredulously.

“We’ll drive each other mad,” Bak protested, scratching at his arm. His hives were starting to act up, the marks angry and flushed on his skin.

Komui shrugged. “We’ve been doing that for ten years,” he countered. “I think we could survive another ten more, don’t you?”

Bak seemed to choke on his own tongue at that, his eyes darting around wildly now looking for some sort of escape.

“You’re going to regret this,” he exclaimed, sounding as though he were on the brink of breaking down into sobs, “It won’t be easy. I’m not easy to lo - I mean, live with… and then there’s my _family_ , and protocol and you’ll _hate_ it, I won’t let you …”

“You don’t know that,” Komui replied, shaking his head and lacing their fingers together.

“I might hate it,” he said solemnly. “I might even enjoy it. But I do know one thing,” he added, and tried to put all his love and encouragement and adoration for this man into his smile.

“I know no matter what happens you’ll be right there with me, and that’s all I really want.”

Bak trembled.

Komui brought his hand to his lips and kissed it.

“You don’t have to give me an answer right now,” he repeated again, because he wanted Bak to know that he meant it. “You’ve been through a lot today and I realize most of that was my fault. We can talk about this again later once we get out of here and - ”

Bloodstained fingers touched his lips, silencing him. Komui raised his eyebrows.

Bak gave him a dirty look, tears still streaming steadily down his face.

“How can I give you an answer,” he said hoarsely, “when you never even asked me a question? Idiot.”

Komui stared at him, his lips parting slightly under Bak’s fingers in surprise. Then he _grinned_ , the feeling of euphoria rushing back and filling his chest with so much golden light he thought he was going to float away and never come down.

[He carefully took Bak’s hand in his own, pressing their foreheads together.](http://i.imgur.com/uYMFVB0.png)

“Bak Chang,” he sighed, exhaling adoration and reveling in the shape and feel of the cool platinum band against his fingers. “You don’t have to run anymore. Stay with me. Let me love you in all the ways you deserve because you don’t have to go through this awful war alone. I promise, after today you’ll never …”

“ _Komui_ ,” Bak said threateningly, warning off another rambling speech.

“ _Marry me_ ,” Komui breathed, not missing a single beat.

“That wasn’t a question,” Bak told him exasperatedly, his fingers curling apprehensively against Komui’s palm.

“But if it was,” he whispered, soft and secretive against Komui’s mouth, “I would say yes.”

Something inside Komui burst then, like a cork out of a bottle of champagne or tiny golden bubbles full of joy, taking all the pressure off his shoulders that had been weighing down on him since Friday night.

“Is that your final answer?” he confirmed, leaning back a little to gently bump his forehead against Bak’s and grinning so hard his face ached. “Because I’m warning you right now, I’m not going to accept any takebacks - ”

Bak kissed him, leaning his whole body into Komui’s space and pressing their mouths together so firmly that he could no longer speak, even if he wanted to. His face was wet and sticky.

Komui grabbed at him greedily and kissed him back, smoothing his hands down the back of Bak’s neck, down his spine and over his hips.

“I love you,” he said breathlessly, when Bak released him long enough to give him some air before rough hands fisted painfully in his dark hair and pulled him down again. He curled his fingers tight against Bak’s hips and kissed his face, pressing his lips gingerly to tear tracks and the open wound from last night’s debacle at the fountain that was tracking blood down the side of Bak’s face. “God, I love you.”

“I know,” Bak said, in a voice that cracked when Komui started to kiss the tears off his face. He swiped his thumb over Komui’s cheek, lingering on his split lip and hovering uncertainly over his broken nose. “I lo …”

He paused then, his mouth turning down into a hard, miserable line.

“I’m sorry I hit you,” he said instead, “even though you deserved it,” and Komui threw back his head and laughed.

“What, this?” he asked, gesturing at his bloody nose and pressing his lips together in a slight grimace when Bak raised himself up on his knees and kissed the side of his bruised face. “It’ll heal in a week. Unlike my heart,” he added teasingly, taking Bak’s hand in his and leaving kisses all over his ring finger again. “Had you actually said no.”

“Don’t be dramatic,” Bak muttered, though his eyes were soft when they looked at the ring, as though he still wasn’t quite sure what it was doing there but wasn’t going to start complaining about it.

Komui nosed his forehead gently. “Bak-chan?”

“What is it now? If you’re going to try giving me some terrible, flowery speech again I don’t want to hear it.”

Komui shook his head and buried his face against Bak’s neck. His hands slid lower down Bak’s hips, cupping the curve of his bottom.

“Let’s get married right now.”

“ _What_?” Bak yelped, his eyes wide in the flickering lantern light, his entire body going rigid once again in Komui’s arms.

“Think about it!” Komui insisted, pulling back and grinning at Bak excitedly. “I mean technically as Head Officer I have the power to officiate such things if no one from the Church is present, right? We could elope right here!”

“You can’t officiate your own wedding!” Bak exclaimed, “And we are not … _nngh_ ,” he whimpered, biting his lower lip when Komui leaned back in and started kissing down his neck.

“If you think you’re going to propose to _and_ marry me in this damp, musty cave you’ve got another thing … will you stop doing that!?” he exclaimed, pushing Komui away, his face bright red as teeth grazed against his ear.

Komui made a show of pouting at that. “But _Bak-chan_.”

“No!” Bak snapped, swatting at wandering hands, “There are rules, and … and _traditions_ that ngh, need to be followed …” he trailed off, squeezing his eyes shut as Komui peppered kisses down his jaw, “and you _can’t_ just ignore…”

“I wish I could ignore what I’ve just seen,” another much more unimpressed voice said flatly.

Bak gave Komui a shove away from his person, scrambling backwards and squinting up at the tiny rays of light filtering down.

“Fou?!”

The robot shifted, raining bits of gravel and dirt down on them, its body making a dull shrieking groan as it was lifted slowly and carefully out of the cavern as easily as if it were a golf ball. Sunlight burst forth in its wake, sharp and bright. They shielded their eyes.

“Honestly,” Fou shouted, sounding both furious and relieved at the same time, though Komui could only make out her silhouette and that of his robot’s remains, held above her head as though it weighed nothing at all.

“You’re a first class idiot, you know that Bak!? Making me think you’d gone and been crushed to death by this ugly piece of junk - ”

“Hey!” Komui exclaimed, offended.

“But no, I pull this thing aside and there you are, just hanging out in a gross-ass pit without a care in the world, sucking face!”

“What!?” Bak screamed back at her, “What did you expect me to do, you stupid bitch? Strap his corpse to my back and rock climb my way out? I couldn’t see two inches in front of my own face!”

“Yeah? Well I’m going to shove my fist into your face when I get down there you smartass!” Fou snapped, “Do you think you’ll be able to see that?!”

A couple of other silhouettes appeared at her side, shining a torch down into the cavern.

“Chief? Director Bak?” Reever called out, yelling to make himself heard over Bak and Fou screaming obscenities at each other, “Oh, thank God. Just give us a minute, we’ll get you out of there!” 

“Are they all right?” Lenalee exclaimed, and Komui’s heart thudded against his ribcage. He hadn’t expected her home from her mission so soon. “Brother, what did you _do_?”

Komui huffed, then he chuckled, and then he hunched over laughing in great delighted peals, holding tight to Bak’s hand to keep himself from falling over entirely.

“Brother?!” Lenalee repeated, sounding completely alarmed now.

“ _Komui_?” Bak echoed, staring down at him with his eyebrows raised.

“Christ, he must have hit his head or something,” Reever said darkly, and that only made Komui laugh even harder. “Oi, will someone _please_ get in touch with Medical? Come on, step on it!”

Bak crouched down and shook Komui’s shoulders. “What’s the matter with you?” he hissed. “What on earth could you be possibly laughing about?”

Komui shook his head, wiping tears of mirth from his dirty face.

“We’re engaged,” he told Bak warmly. “We’re actually _engaged_. I can’t believe it.”

Bak blinked. Then the corner of his mouth curved sharply upwards into a disparaging, dimpled smirk.

“Yeah,” he remarked sarcastically. “Nearly dying in the attempt took me by surprise too.” 

Komui beamed. Then he gave Bak’s hand a tug, causing him to lose his balance and tip over right into his lap, curling his arms around him for another long, breathless kiss.

Fou groaned, momentarily throwing them into darkness again as she threw the remains of the LoveBot in front of her to shield her eyes.

“Oh, _gross_ ,” she muttered. “Twice in five minutes? Seriously?”

But Bak just wrapped himself tightly around Komui in turn, his fingers tight around the lapels of his uniform.

Maybe they weren’t going to be _actually_ married any time soon, but this Komui thought buoyantly, this was a victory he could live with.

 

* * *

 

_Well_ , Komui thought uneasily as Lavi helped him out of the impact crater and he stepped into the fading sunlight for the first time since that morning, _I want to say a short-lived victory is a victory nonetheless, but ..._

The courtyard was a _mess_.

The fountain was in shambles, bits of debris still strewn all over the path and flattening the hedges. There was even a sliver of rock that had a suspicious reddish brown stain on it that looked an awful lot like blood.

Komui could see the Head Nurse looking absolutely murderous as she tried to convince her medical assistants to either go _around_ the massive cavity in the ground that his robot had made near the front door, or just march straight through it so they could get on with doing their jobs.

People were milling around what used to be west wing’s entrance in droves, staring at the rubble and the sad remains of windows panes just barely clinging onto their hinges. There was a constant buzz of conversation in the air, with those who had been unlucky enough to have witnessed the whole event enthusiastically telling anyone who would listen what had gone down in excruciating detail.

“Do you think this had anything to do with the fire last night?”

“No one mentioned anything about a scheduled demolition… Maybe it was a gas leak?” 

“Hey look, it’s the Asian Branch’s gate guardian!”

“What about our _rooms_? It’s the middle of November! Where are we going to _sleep_?”

“Ngh,” Komui murmured, drumming his fingers anxiously against his chin and taking in the damage. There was no getting around it. There was no way he was going to be able to chalk _this_ up as an accident like the fire. A proper repair job was going to cost _millions_ and the paperwork was going to be astronomical.

Running off to elope was starting to look like a pretty good idea after all. If they left now, maybe they could make it to Gretna Green before the documents for next month’s budget review arrived from Central.

“I was thinking more along the lines of ‘ _argh_ ’,” Bak said conversationally, appearing at his shoulder and looking out at the destruction all around them with the eyes of a man who was clearly getting _used_ to such things and hated himself for it, “but then again … your jurisdiction, your mess, you know? You’re going to have to kiss a lot of ass to get this one sorted out.” 

“ _Ngh_ ,” Komui said again, though it came out as more of a “ _Nghooh_!” because just as he turned towards Bak to complain that he was being a completely heartless fiancé Lenalee barrelled into his side, completely knocking the wind out of him.

“Brother, you promised you weren’t going to let this get out of hand!” she exclaimed, taking in his filthy clothes and patting him down to feel out any sprains or fractures. Her hand lingered uncertainly over his face.

“What happened to your _nose_?”

‘I, er… must have landed on it when I fell out of the cockpit,” Komui lied, avoiding his sister’s shrewd gaze and glancing over at Bak, who was pretending to be very interested in watching the mad scramble at the entrance to the courtyard.

Lenalee frowned, completely unconvinced. “You were supposed to get them to _talk_ to each other!” she told Lavi, who was hovering in the background trying to listen in on their conversation without actually joining in.

“Don’t blame _me_!” Lavi said, putting his hand over his heart and giving her a wounded look. “Yuu’s the one that ruined everything! _I_ didn’t suggest that they ought to break up!”

“ _What_?” Komui repeated, dumbfounded.

“ _Kanda_!” Lenalee snapped, suddenly looking furious.

“Didn’t I tell you?” Lavi insisted to Kanda, who was watching Fou pace around the LoveBot’s remains as she tried to figure out what to do with it, the look of disgust on his face mimicking her own.

“Didn’t I say the Order would be destroyed within 12 hours if they didn’t get together? But no, you had to go up to Director Bak and be all ‘ _Everyone is sick and tired of your lovers’ spats. You know what you must do_.’”

“I never said they should break up,” Kanda deadpanned, not even turning around to face them. “Even though my life would be that much sweeter if they did,” he added, which made Lenalee puff up angrily and Komui have to grab hold of her wrist so she didn’t march over and kick him in the shins.

“I just told that idiot to stop sulking and go get his shit sorted and it looks like he did. So if you two want to be completely insufferable and start throwing confetti everywhere then go ahead, but I want no part in it.”

“Confetti?” Lenalee mouthed, her brow furrowed momentarily before realization dawned on her, wiping the scowl from her face. She turned to look at Komui, clutching at his sleeve.

“You mean … Brother, did you…?”

Lavi blinked. Then he grinned. “Oh, _man_. Does that mean what I think it means?”

Komui shook off the image of Kanda and Lavi hunting Bak down and apparently dispensing vastly different pearls of relationship advice on his sister’s orders while he had been down in the labs trying to make all of this right.

He nudged Bak gently in the side and offered him his hand. He raised his eyebrows and inclined his head a little towards Lenalee and Lavi, who were watching them like hawks.

Bak stared back at him and immediately coloured beet red. He looked heavenwards, gave a great, long-suffering sigh, and slipped his hand into Komui’s own.

Lenalee covered her mouth with her hand and bounced a little on the balls of her feet. A tiny little noise of excitement escaped her.

“ _Wow_ ,” Lavi said, coming on Lenalee’s other side and leaning over to get a good, hard look at the ring. “Look at the size of that rock. No wonder you went to pieces over it. I’d glue that to my finger if I were you,” he added in a stage whisper. Bak gave him an exasperated look.

“You did it!” Lenalee said delightedly, still smiling brilliantly behind her fingers as though it were the only thing keeping her from utterly exploding with happiness. “You actually did it, oh I’m so happy for you!”

She threw her arms around both of them, pulling back a little when they winced over the jostling of their bumps and bruises.

“Sorry, sorry!” she whispered frantically, grimacing a little herself in sympathy. “We can talk about this later. Maybe you should go to the medical ward and get fixed up, I - ”

Komui put his arm around her shoulders and drew her flush against his side, staving off her protests.

“Head Nurse will probably have my hide for this,” he told her, kissing her forehead before turning his head and pressing his lips to Bak’s temple in turn, “but I think Medical can wait just a little longer.”

“In that case I hope she sticks a needle in _you_ first,” Bak grumbled, still red all the way down his neck and trying to extricate himself from under Komui’s arm.

“I think Bak Lee-Chang sounds like a good name, don’t you?” Komui asked his sister, tightening his arm around Bak and winking at her when he squawked in protest.

Lenalee giggled. “Oh, yes,” she replied teasingly and Bak went, if possible, even redder.

“Technically if anyone’s going to be changing their surname it’ll probably be Komui,” Lavi piped up, crossing his arms over his chest and watching Bak trying to wriggle his way out of the little three-way hug in amusement.

“After all, you’re the one who’s going to be marrying into the powerful, influential Chang family. And to the clan head of all people. There’s gotta be some major protocol there.”

“No, that’s not, I mean…” Bak muttered, suddenly looking embarrassed. “He doesn’t have to …”

“Hmm,” Komui pondered, tapping his fingers thoughtfully on Bak’s shoulder, “You know, he has a point. Komui Chang-Lee has a pretty nice ring to it actually. Maybe I should start signing all my documents that way, huh Bak-chan? What do you think?”

“Don’t you even _dare_ ,” Bak hissed, covering his face in mortification, the diamond on his ring winking cheerily in the light of the setting sun.

“Oi, oi, speaking of marriage,” Lavi said, pointing to himself and grinning cheekily, “You’re totally going to invite me and the old panda to your wedding right? You know, since I helped you guys get hitched and everything.”

“Ooh that’s right,” Lenalee murmured, looking a little worried. “We’ll probably want to get started on the guest list as soon as possible. Weddings take _months_ to plan.”

“There won’t _be_ a wedding!” Bak exclaimed, throwing his hands up. “Because we’re not getting married now or anytime soon either!”

“We’re going to elope,” Komui whispered to Lenalee, reeling back when Bak scowled and pointed a finger straight at his nose.

“We are doing no such thing!” he snapped. “You are going to follow my lead and we are going to do right by tradition because you can bet your ass that when we _do_ get married it’s going to be the best damn wedding of your _life_!”

_BOOM_.

They all ducked on instinct when a loud bang reverberated in their ears, Komui immediately seizing Bak’s hand and holding on to it tight as he looked around for the source, only to see Fou pulling her fist triumphantly out of the LoveBot’s shell as though she had just had an epiphany.

“I’ve got it! I know exactly what do with this hunk of junk!” she said gleefully, tucking her legs in and leaping off the ground with such force that she left a tiny crater of her own in her wake as she dragged the LoveBot with her. Then she pulled her arm back and launched its remains into the air above her head.

Komui’s mouth fell open a little. “Wait, wait don’t do that!” he protested, but it was too late.

Fou curled herself into a ball and then kicked her leg out. It connected with the LoveBot with a sickening crack and Komui watched, his mouth agape, as his creation sailed over the battlements.

“Maybe you should go to the beach and take a swim at the bottom of the ocean!” Fou called out as the robot disappeared over the horizon.

They heard a distant splash.

“Ah,” Komui said faintly, one hand outstretched in the direction his robot had been thrown in as Fou landed on the grass with all the grace of a dainty cat.

For a moment there was silence, and then the crowd gathered around the entrance to the Western Wing erupted into cheers.

Bak clutched at his chest and breathed out a sigh of relief.

“Hmph,” Kanda grunted, finally turning away from the spot where the robot’s remains had last stood and sheathing Mugen, apparently satisfied with this development.

“Philistines,” Komui muttered, his grip on Bak's hand slackening a little now he was sure they weren't in any mortal danger.  Lenalee patted his arm gently, trying and failing to look sympathetic. “I put my blood, sweat and tears into that robot and what do I get?”

A balled fist hit him upside the head.

“From the looks of it, I’d say you got exactly what you deserved!” Reever said sharply, taking a communications device out of his ear and tossing it to Johnny, who deftly caught it. He, not unlike Komui and Bak themselves, was completely dirt-streaked and filthy, if not a little bit singed from the blast wave to boot.

Then he strode up to them and put Komui straight into a headlock, forcing him to let go of both Bak and Lenalee.

“Chief, I’m so glad you’re not dead!” Johnny exclaimed, clutching the communications device in both hands and looking overjoyed, as though Reever were not yelling at and trying to choke Komui at the same time. His glasses were almost completely obscured by a thin layer of dust from the rubble, a torn sleeve on his lab coat hanging uselessly off his shoulder.

“For the record, I’m glad _we’re_ not dead either,” Jiji added, coming up behind him with Rob and Cash in tow. They all looked as though they’d been dragged over a dirt path backwards. He raised his hand in greeting at everyone assembled.

“Hey, kids. Good timing. Does everyone still have their limbs intact? I think I nearly lost a leg back there myself.”

“Please tell me the Chief’s already asked him,” Cash sighed, looking Bak up and down in a way that he found rather terrifying. “I can’t take much more of this. I’ll propose to the Director _for_ him if that’s what it takes.”

“I don’t think you’ll have to,” Rob told her, an easy smile growing on his face. They followed his gaze to a twinkling diamond band, and upon seeing their eyes light up Bak was half-tempted to either cover his hand or just pocket the ring entirely.

Had _everyone_ been in on this engagement plot except him?

“Oh, thank _Christ_ ,” Jiji breathed, rushing Bak to shake his hand and making him take a step back in alarm.

“Thank you,” he told Bak sincerely, “for thinking of the greater good and saying yes. Now we’re all going to live to see another day.”

“You made the right decision,” Johnny told him, seizing his hand when Jiji let go and looking at Bak with more respect than he had showed him over the past 12 hours or so. “This is going to make the Chief _so_ happy.”

“And when the Chief’s happy,” Rob added, squeezing in next to them and fairly beaming at Bak, “Headquarters remains standing.”

“I don’t know if you’ll want to let him plan your wedding though,” Cash finished off warningly.

“Er …” Bak replied coherently.

“What they mean to say is ‘congratulations’,” Lenalee whispered kindly, taking pity on him.

“Oh,” Bak said, although he didn’t sound convinced. “Um. Thank you…?”

“Bless him,” Jiji cooed, “He’s still in shock.”

“Well he _has_ been losing a lot of blood,” Johnny replied doubtfully, looking at the drying bloodstain that had been dripping down the side of Bak’s face. “Maybe we ought to get Medical to come over now after all.”

Bak stared at them and then looked down at the ring on his finger again. He wasn’t seriously marrying into _this_ , was he?

He looked around for Komui.

Komui who, as it turned out, was still in a headlock and getting his ashen hair pulled mercilessly by his livid second-in-command.

“Look at the mess you made you curly-haired idiot!”

“Hey, hey I’m _wounded_ here, take it easy!” Komui gasped, wriggling around and trying to pull himself free. “You said it yourself, I could have a head injury!”

“You had a head injury before you even fell into that hole!” Reever snapped, “You could have _died_! And now we’ve got even more work to do!”

“How _did_ you find us anyway?” Bak asked curiously.

“We almost didn’t,” Reever admitted as he finally released Komui, who immediately put Bak as a buffer between them.

“There was a bit of a scare where we thought you’d been crushed by that robot, but then Lenalee’s squad got home from their mission early.”

He dragged his hand back through his hair and jerked his thumb at two black-robed figures who were walking away from the Western Wing’s entrance towards them.

Then one of them spoke. “We heard the commotion on our way out of the Ark, so we thought we’d better check that everything was all right before heading back to the Command Room.”

Bak’s eyes widened in surprise. “You’re …”

“It’s good to see you again Director Bak,” Noise Marie greeted him, inclining his head politely. There was a slight smile on his face. “I believe congratulations are in order?”

“Herr Chang, you’re bleeding!” Miranda Lotte said frantically, reaching out towards them before quickly drawing her hand back and rummaging in her coat pockets. “And look at the Head Officer’s _face_ , oh dear. Oh dear, I know I have a couple of handkerchiefs in here somewhere.”

Bak glanced at the man still hiding behind him and shook his head. “Please don’t trouble yourself, Frau Lotte. I know this may come as a shock but trust me, his face always looks like that.”

Reever hid a badly disguised snort in his fist.

“We might not have found you for days if Marie hadn’t shown up,” he clarified. “He managed to get a read on your heartbeats fairly easily … among other things.”

He looked at them both tiredly. “I know it was a momentous occasion and all but you could have at least _tried_ to conserve oxygen after that instead of sucking it out of the air entirely.”

Marie flushed a dull red at that, and cleared his throat to hide his embarrassment, which made Bak’s cheeks itch and burn and he half felt like he might faint on the spot.

“I …” he blustered, looking at Komui to back him up. “We didn’t … Couldn’t _you_ have at least pretended not to hear anything?” he demanded.

“Yeah, no that wasn’t an option,” Reever replied, still looking at them as though they were wayward schoolchildren instead of high-ranking Order officials. “Marie didn’t want to bring it up but I knew we had to work fast after that because there’s no way in hell anyone here was going to pull your naked, oxygen-deprived bodies out of that hole.”

Bak turned an even deeper shade of red at that, the colour blooming in blotchy patches all over his face.

“If you think for one second I would have taken so much as my shirt off in that filthy cavern you - ” he shrieked thunderously, drawing to a sudden abrupt halt when Komui covered his mouth with his hand and pressed him back against his chest.

“Please excuse him, he’s had a long day,” he told Marie and Miranda apologetically as Bak got his second wind and started making furious, muffled noises.

Marie shrugged good-naturedly. “Like I said,” he repeated, “Congratulations. It looks like you put a lot of work into this engagement. Master will be thrilled when he hears the good news.”

“Yes, congratulations!” Miranda concurred, smiling at them shyly. “I had no idea you were planning on getting married. How lovely! I’d love to hear the whole story sometime, if you’re not too busy.”

Bak actually did pause in his tirade at that, looking up at Komui with raised eyebrows. Reever did the same.

“Oh, yes we’ve been wanting to get engaged for years now,” Komui replied, smiling breezily and ignoring their pointed looks. “Just couldn’t find the time, you know? So I thought to myself, well you’re not getting any younger and Bak-chan will be here all weekend, so you might as well pop the question at the next opportune moment!”

Bak’s eyebrows, if possible, climbed even higher.

Reever scratched his chin. “Huh,” he said slowly. “That’s funny. Because I distinctly remember this whole fiasco snowballing because a certain someone had a completely inappropriate reaction to a - ”

“But I wouldn’t have managed to pull it off had it not been for the incredible efforts of my _best man_!” Komui exclaimed, releasing Bak and seizing him instead, shaking his shoulders gamely.

“For the last time,” Reever said impatiently, “I’m _not_ your - ”

He never got to finish his sentence, because Komui cut him off again, this time by grabbing him behind the ears and kissing him full on the mouth.

Marie’s expression shifted slightly. Miranda made a tiny little squeak of surprise.

They vaguely heard a clatter behind them that sounded very much like Johnny had just dropped the communications device he had been holding.

Reever wiped his mouth on his sleeve, looking even more long-suffering than he had beforehand. “ _Chief_ …Oof, seriously?” he demanded, sighing heavily when Komui turned and swept him into a crushing hug.

“Thank you for looking out for my Bak-chan when I wasn’t thinking straight,” Komui murmured, quiet enough that only Reever could hear him. “If I’d just listened to you from the very beginning we wouldn’t be in this mess.”

Reever looked at him in mild surprise. Then he carefully brought his hands up and patted Komui soundly on the back.

“Yeah, well …” he said gruffly. “If you listened to me I’d be worried that you’d gone and been replaced with a bodysnatcher. The important thing is, and this is the part I really can’t believe, he actually said _yes_. I’m proud of you, Chief. Congratulations.”

Komui smiled, soft and sincere, though by the time he pulled away from Reever a big, goofy grin was plastered on his face again.

“Isn’t he wonderful?” Komui wanted to know, addressing their audience at large and clapping Reever’s shoulder companionably. “I’d give him a raise but I hardly get paid any more than he does.”

“Rub it in why don’t you,” Reever sighed, and looked warily at Bak, who hadn’t made a peep during the whole exchange. “Er … that was, you know …”

“I know,” Bak said shortly, “I … wanted to thank you too. For helping me realize a number of things. Which are well on their way to being sorted, just so you’re aware.”

“Oh,” Reever replied, then “ _Oh_ , right. No, of course. I didn’t mean to overstep, but … that’s great. I’m glad to hear it.”

“Good,” Bak retorted, looking just about as uncomfortable as Reever felt.

An awkward silence fell between them.

“So, uh …” Reever began.

“I’m not kissing you so you can forget about it,” Bak said flatly and Komui burst out laughing.

“You can if you want to Bak-chan, I don’t mind.”

Reever held his hands up defensively. “No, no I’ve had just about enough kissing for one day, thank you.” He gestured his hand to shoo them along around the side of the broken fountain. 

“Come on, if all the well wishes have been dealt with I think we’d better get you up to the medical ward post-haste or Head Nurse will probably start lecturing _me_ as well.”

“That’s probably for the best,” Marie agreed. “If you’d like, we could drop the mission report off with Miss Fey until you’re feeling up to perusing it, Chief.”

“Ah yes the lovely Miss Fey,” Komui said cheerily, before turning his head and looking at the rubble again. He shuffled closer to Bak.

“She’s going to skin me alive,” he whispered faintly.

“Well you can’t hide in the Asian Branch,” Bak said firmly, trying to place clingy hands on parts of his body that _weren’t_ battered and bruised and not really succeeding. “Thanks to you I’m going to have to play this whole weekend off as a freak accident so Wong doesn’t keel over and have a heart attack.”

“If I were you I’d be more worried about the staff who are going to have to move what’s left of their belongings to other parts of the Order and hope no one minds doubling up for a few weeks,” Reever warned him. “Maybe we should try to get in through a back door …”

“ _Komui Lee_!”

Komui paled. “ _Hide me_ ,” he hissed, this time forgoing crouching behind Bak entirely and just leaping behind Marie, who was the broadest person there.

They turned their heads.

Miranda pressed her fingers to her lips. “Oh, dear.”

“If I had known this was what you were going to do with my advice I never would have given it to you!” Jerry exclaimed, sidestepping the great hole at the entrance to the courtyard and marching towards them, his soup ladle brandished like a sword.

Lenalee raised her eyebrows at Lavi. He shrugged.

“Hey, _I_  was spending all my time making sure Director Bak didn’t hightail it all the way back to China. This has nothing to do with me.”

Kanda rolled his eyes. “This is exactly why I said I didn’t want to get involved in this circus,” he muttered.

“You said I should be direct!” Komui protested, still using Marie as a shield.

“Being direct does not mean building a giant robot and cowing someone into agreeing with you, Komu-tan! You said you weren’t going to rush into this!”

“I said I didn’t want to get married at for - _ahhh_!” Komui yelped, jumping out of the way when Jerry made a grab for him.

He ran for Johnny, who clearly remembered his last encounter with the head chef when trying to plan Komui and Bak’s anniversary a few months prior, and got out of the way before Komui could reach him, ducking behind Cash instead.

Bak put his hands on his hips and watched them with bemusement, edging far enough to the side that for the most part they seemed to forget he was there.

Fou came and stood beside him. They watched the scene unfold in companionable silence.

“So, want to tell me when you decided the perpetual bachelor life wasn’t for you?” she wanted to know, crossing her arms and looking at him beadily.

Bak let out a breath he hadn’t even known he was holding. “Believe me,” he said drily. “If I’d known _this_ was how the weekend would turn out I might have called in sick or something.”

“You, call in sick?” Fou repeated with a derisive snort. “I’d see a flying pig before then. Hey,” she added, nudging Bak and gesturing at his left hand.

“I know it’s been a long day for you and all but you ain’t marrying the guy just yet, so do you think you could …”

Bak blinked at her and looked down at his hand, where his summoning scars were just beginning to clot over. Another fresher blood stain was drying on top. It was Komui’s blood. He felt his face prickle with heat again.

“Ah, right,” he muttered, wiping his hand discretely on his pants. “Sorry. I think I dropped your stone somewhere when I fell.”

Fou shook her head. “Forget about it. You’re the only one who can use it anyhow. It’ll crack and send me back home when its magic runs dry. Just don’t mix your blood all up in his again before the wedding, all right?”

She rubbed her arms as though a chill had passed over her. “It just feels a little weird sensing someone else’s blood on top of your own in the middle of a summoning.”

Tradition and rituals, Bak thought to himself. Two things that his family name were steeped in. Two things that Komui often made him forget.

“If it makes you feel better,” he offered, “It only happened because I punched him in the nose.”

Fou raised her eyebrows. Then she snorted. “Yeah, that sounds like something you would do. And with that crazy robot on top of everything else? I think this engagement suits you down to the ground.”

Bak made a face.

They looked back to the group, where Jiji seemed to be reduced to tears of laughter watching Komui try to climb up onto Reever’s shoulders to escape both Jerry’s lecture and soup ladle.

Bak could already hear Lavi explaining to Lenalee in great detail about how this was a fantastic opportunity to start circulating a _new_ serial of stories throughout Order, this time about a grand wedding, while Lenalee’s fingers were closed around Kanda’s arm like iron so he was forced to stick around and _listen_ to such drivel.

Fou turned her head and glanced at the crowd still milling about near the destroyed courtyard steps.

“Hey,” she said quietly, making Bak look at her. “Be honest with me, idiot. Do you really want to associate yourself with this group of crazies?”

Bak looked at her. Then he looked around, at Marie and Miranda laughing, their fingers grazing and curling against each other and they didn’t even seem to realize it.

At Lenalee and Lavi, who already suffered so much and yet were _beaming_ , so thrilled to be involved that they couldn’t seem to contain themselves. At Kanda, who rightfully should hate him and revel in him being as miserable as possible, but had told Bak to get up off his ass and take his fate into his own hands.

He looked at Reever and Jerry and the rest of Komui’s inner circle, at these men and women who would as soon wring Komui’s neck with their bare hands as they would stand under his banner and follow him into the depths of hell.

And then he looked at Komui, who had come from nothing and built up his family around him piece by piece and now he was offering Bak a chance to be part of it. A chance to be loved and cherished and surrounded by genuinely _good_ people who couldn’t care less if Bak was a Chang or a Lee or whatever it was he would become if he decided to stick around after this.

Bak inhaled, taking the crisp autumn air deep into his lungs to get a grip on the aches and pains still racking his body. He opened his eyes. There was a full moon in the darkening sky. The stars were starting to come out, twinkling clean and bright like the ring on his bloodied hand.

“Bak-chan!” Komui shouted, jarring Bak out of his thoughts as he came running, sweeping Bak up into his arms like he was a talisman. “Stop them! They’re trying to make you a widower before your time!”

Bak looked up, searching his face. At laughing eyes and hair that was impossible to lie flat and a brilliant grin that killed all the horrible, negative spaces inside him and filled it with hot air balloons and carrion crows, sorry … _butterflies_.

A light in dark places. Just like a lantern.

“I think I do,” he told Fou as he stroked his thumb over Komui’s cheek and then grabbed him by his lapels, kissing him soundly in the middle of the ruined courtyard.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To be concluded in the epilogue.


	6. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There are three rings of marriage. 
> 
> The engagement ring, the wedding ring, and the suffering.

_1 week later ..._

“So what you’re saying is that not only did this robot destroy an entire wing of HQ but that it was … also covered in pretty love hearts?” Allen said doubtfully. “I don’t know, Lavi …”

Lavi sniffed and moved one of the pieces on the chessboard that Johnny had lent to them to pass the time until Allen was discharged from Medical.

“Really, Allen. You’ll take giant, man-eating flowers and a tower full of zombies into stride, but you’re skeptical over a _LoveBot_?”

Allen raised his eyebrows. “Is that really what it was called? Seriously? That seems even more far-fetched than the fire.”

Lavi grinned. “You’re just saying that because you’re mad Yuu has staked out a large part of the training grounds for himself until the gardens are fixed. He was there too you know. Ask him if you don’t believe me.”

“No thanks,” Allen replied shortly, scratching at the bandages wrapped around his ribs as he rolled a captured Knight between his fingers. “He’s been grumpier than usual ever since Komui started going around telling anyone who will listen that they’ve eloped.”

“You haven’t _really_ eloped have you, Mr. Bak?” he asked, leaning over and calling out to Bak, who was sitting up in his own hospital bed a few metres away, his bedsheets covered in pen, ink and stacks of official looking documents.

“Don’t be ridiculous Walker!” Bak snapped, not even looking up from the formula he was writing, hunched up close to his bedside lamp now that night had fallen. He was swiveling his engagement ring back and forth on his finger as he worked. “If you’re going to commit to something you have to at least do it _right_!”

“The Director has a point,” Link said absently, turning a page in his book. He had elected to sit in a chair at Allen’s bedside, unlike Lavi, who had plopped himself down on the bed itself for their chess game.

“The Order keeps records of all the births, deaths and marriages that occur within its walls, so any act of elopement would not be legally recognized by - ”

“Yeah, yeah, God you’re almost as bad as he is,” Allen groaned, smiling a little when Link gave him an affronted look.

“Honestly though,” he said, dropping his voice to whisper to Lavi so that Bak would not overhear. “Are you _sure_ they’re engaged? I mean, I can believe that _Komui_ is engaged, he looks like he’s been walking on air for days now, but I don’t know if I can believe that he’s engaged to _Mr. Bak_.”

“Come to think of it,” he wondered curiously, “why is he still in the Medical ward? Shouldn’t he have been discharged when Komui was?”

“Because being inside the robot cushioned Brother’s fall when it broke through the cavern roof,” Lenalee replied before Lavi could so much as open his mouth, turning the corner with a tray full of hot drinks in her hands. “Mr. Bak wasn’t so lucky.”

“Also,” she added quietly as she put the tray down on the bedside table, “he keeps trying to sneak out and discharge _himself_ because he says he’s got a lot of work to do, so now Head Nurse has forbidden him from leaving without her say-so.”

“I’m perfectly fine!” Bak snapped, though he mumbled his thanks when Lenalee walked over and slid a cup of chrysanthemum tea onto his nightstand. “I know my own body’s limits, no matter what that devil woman says!”

“You also keep tearing your stitches open because you refuse to rest,” Lenalee replied, not unkindly, as she gathered up some of his papers and started tidying them. “It’s not good for your health.”

Bak flushed pink.

“That’s …” he blustered, chewing on the end of his pen as he looked through the written formula in his lap. “That’s just shoddy training! I don’t know who’s in charge here but the stitches they use back home _never_ tear open so easily.”

“Wow,” Allen said blandly, “You must be _really_ endearing yourself to the nurses here.”

“You should listen to your sister-in-law Director Bak,” Lavi chimed in teasingly. “She’s taking it easy on you because you’ve never had siblings before but you don’t want to get on her bad side, trust me.”

Bak glanced at Lenalee, who gave him a warm, brilliant smile that was very much like Komui’s. He sighed and lay back down on the pillows he had propped up behind his head.

“Fine,” he said darkly, “I’ll stay. But I’m going to keep abreast of my paperwork whether these people like it or not.”

The door to the ward slammed open.

“Bak-chan!” Komui called out delightedly, waving at the other occupants in the room as he made a beeline straight towards him. “I missed you!”

“Speaking of people who _should_ be doing their paperwork …” Lavi murmured under his breath.

“You were just here for dinner two hours ago,” Bak said shrewdly, though he obligingly tilted his head up when Komui leaned over to kiss him.

“I know,” Komui replied, sitting on the edge of Bak’s bed and casting a disapproving eye at all the documents he had surrounded himself with, “but since _you’re_ free and _I’m_ free I thought we could spend some time together.”

Bak looked at him suspiciously. “You know you’re not allowed to sleep here,” he said warningly. “If someone catches you again, the Head Nurse will tar and feather you.”

Komui waved his hand dismissively. “I’m not talking about that,” he told Bak, in the sort of tone that suggested that he _was_ going to sneak back in after lights-out and try his luck again, regardless of the threats made against his person in the past.

“I just had something that I wanted to show you. Do you feel up for a little stroll?”

“Brother!” Lenalee admonished, “You know Mr. Bak isn’t allowed to leave the ward!”

“We won’t be gone long!” Komui insisted, rushing off to the supply closet on the other end of the room and coming back relatively quickly with a wheelchair. He gestured at it grandly.

“He won’t even be leaving under his own power so Head Nurse can’t put the blame on him this time! If anyone comes looking just tell them he’s been kidnapped!”

“Maybe don’t use the term ‘kidnapped’ though?” Bak said exasperatedly. “Please, this last week has already been a strain on my retainer’s health. I don’t need Wong to have an aneurysm on top of everything else.”

Lenalee cast a worried glance at Lavi, who looked at Allen, who narrowed his eyes at Link.

Link stared back at them, frowning. “What?”

“You aren’t going to stop them?” Allen wanted to know, as Komui gathered all of Bak’s documents up into one big pile and put them to the side so he could throw back his covers and help him out of bed.

Link looked at him patiently. “My duty here is to monitor you. What happens to the Director outside of his own Branch is outside of my authority. I would however suggest that he cover himself up if he doesn’t wish to catch his death.”

“Always nice to be reminded about how far my family has fallen on Central’s priority list,” Bak said sarcastically as Lenalee took Link’s advice on board and handed him the finely-tailored dressing gown that he had hung over the chair next to his bed.

He sighed and carefully put it on as he slipped into the wheelchair and glared up at Komui.

“I _can_ walk you know.”

“Not very fast you can’t,” Komui replied, making sure he was comfortable before grabbing the handles and shoving off, which made Bak grab the sides of the wheelchair in turn with white-knuckled fists. “We’re running on a tight schedule here!”

“Slow down, you idiot!” they heard him snap, sounding panicked as Komui wheeled him out the door with a grin on his face.

“I’ll have him back in no time! Cover for me until then!”

The door shut cheerily behind them.

“You know,” Lavi said conversationally to Allen once they were gone, “I actually have a piece of the LoveBot right here in my pocket that washed up along the beach if you still don’t believe me - ”

“And if you don’t want it confiscated you’ll _keep_ it in your pocket, Bookman Jr.,” Link told him sharply, without even looking up from his book this time.

“Lavi, you went _looking_ for the pieces?” Lenalee scolded, sounding both horrified and disappointed. “If Brother finds out he’ll forget all about the repairs and start a salvage operation instead.”

Lavi frowned at them. “Oh sure,” he drawled. “When the lovebirds want to break the rules everyone’s all for it but when I bring back a piece of a killer robot covered in gaudy hearts suddenly it’s the end of the world.”

“It could be,” Allen said darkly, “If Komui’s programmed it to start putting itself back together when it falls apart.”

Lavi went still.

“..... Yeah, you know what we should probably go down to the beach later and destroy all the pieces while we still have a chance.”

Link finally turned a page in his book, satisfied.

Lenalee breathed out a sigh of relief.

 

* * *

 

“What are you doing?” Komui asked as he wheeled Bak down the dimly lit corridors.

“Hm…?” Bak glanced at him, then down at his own hands, where he had been carefully turning his ring in gentle circles around his finger with his thumb.

“Nothing,” he assured him, turning the ring back around so the diamond was once again sitting on top of his hand. “The ring’s just a little loose, that’s all.”

“Is it annoying?” Komui wanted to know, suddenly anxious. “I can get it fixed if it’s bothering you.”

Bak reached back and swatted his arm. “Don’t _fret_ ,” he said impatiently. “You always go overboard when you fret. It’s perfect.”

He looked out the window as they went past. “My father had a habit of fiddling with his wedding ring too. He used to say it helped him think. Turns out he was right. It _does_ help.”

Komui kissed the top of his head. “And what are you thinking about?”

“About where you’re taking me and how fast I could get away if I need to,” Bak replied without missing a beat. Komui snorted.

They walked past the western wing’s entrance hall. A lot of the rubble had already been cleared but the outer wall was still torn down, exposing everything to the elements. There were no lights here because the wind kept blowing out the lamps, so it was both cold _and_ dark. Bak tucked his hands under his armpits and looked around.

At least you could see the stars, he thought, looking up at the surprisingly cloudless sky.

“Is this what you wanted to show me?” he asked Komui, who chuckled.

“Not quite,” he admitted. “It’s lovely though isn’t it? If you ignore the fact that the ceiling is falling apart. I’d stay, but I don’t want you sitting out here in the cold when you’re not feeling one hundred percent yet.”

“I’m not made of glass Komui,” Bak sighed, looking up at the stars until the parts of the ceiling that had been destroyed were replaced by those that weren’t, and Komui pushed him out of the entrance hall and down a much warmer, brightly lit corridor.

“Are the people that lost their rooms doing all right?”

“As well as can be expected,” Komui replied tiredly. “But no one’s tried to kill me yet and the watchdogs haven’t made a fuss so I’d say things are going pretty good so far.”

Then he perked up, coming to a sudden stop in the corridor. “Okay, we’re here,” he said excitedly, taking Bak’s hands in his own and gesturing for him to cover his face. “No peeking now.”

Bak covered his eyes warily. “I swear if anything is on fire when I open my eyes no one else will have to kill you because I’ll do it myself.”

He tensed as Komui pushed him along a little further and a sudden wave of heat passed over him like a warm blanket. A lock clicked shut behind them.

“You can open your eyes now.”

So Bak did.

They were in another small reading room, though this one only had a single, squashy looking couch in front of a fireplace with large arching windows that overlooked the town on the opposite end of the island, the shining blackness of the sea all around them.

The curtains had been pulled back to make way for the tiny flower-shaped lanterns on the windowsill, flickering merrily. There were even champagne glasses on a little side table.

It was all very haphazard and cozy, as though someone had tried to smarten the room up in a hurry.

He turned and gave Komui a hard stare. “All right, I’ll bite. How many people did you involve to set things up _this_ time?”

“What?” Komui repeated, looking indignant. “No one! I’ve been working on it all day to make sure everything was perfect!”

Which meant he had been sneaking out of the office at regular intervals when no one was looking.

He carefully helped Bak out of the wheelchair and onto the couch.

“You don’t have to keep trying to make up for that awful weekend,” Bak said, pushing himself up a little when it felt like he would sink into the plush cushions at a moment’s notice.

“This isn’t about that,” Komui insisted as he tucked a blanket around Bak and made him as comfortable as possible before sitting down himself, though Bak could tell that in some part it _was_ , “But since we’re a little early I want to show you something first.”

He took a very crumpled looking wad of newspaper out of his pocket and smoothed it out on his lap. There was pen ink all over the page, as though someone had tried to map out a series of battle formations and had run out of good parchment to write on.

Bak leaned over and squinted at the letters, curiosity getting the better of him.

“Isn’t this the community newspaper? And this is a … compatibility test,” he glanced up at Komui, unimpressed. “ _Komui_. Don’t tell me …”

“Look at the results!” Komui insisted, clearly hanging on tenterhooks for Bak’s response.

Bak reached across his lap and flipped the page over.

“66 percent,” he read aloud. There was no inflection in his voice. “That’s …”

“It’s complete nonsense!” Komui exclaimed, pointing out the questions. “What kind of a result is that, it’s like they’re trying to say I don’t know you at all! Look, see your favourite colour is black …”

“Black’s not a colour but it goes well with everything so I suppose I’ll give you that,” Bak retorted, looking at Komui with increasing exasperated fondness.

“And look at this one, favourite food right? Which for you is pretty much everything because you eat like a - ”

Bak put his fingers over Komui’s mouth. “Yeah, you really understand me,” he said sarcastically. “Don’t push your luck, _spatzi_.”

“But _look_ at it!” Komui said, shaking Bak’s hand off and gesturing at the newspaper as though it were personally offending him. “66 percent! It might as well be 50!”

“I’d have given us 50,” Bak said seriously, and then barked out a laugh when Komui recoiled from him as though he had just enthusiastically announced that they should start human experimentation again in the labs.

“ _Spatzi,_ is this what was bothering you that whole weekend? That some poorly formulated, gossip inspiring - ”

“Yes,” Komui whispered, “Thank you. That’s what I was _trying_ to tell Reever, but he said I was overreacting.” 

“A good matchmaker worth their salt wouldn’t even buy into this,” Bak finished pointedly. “So why did you?”

“I …” Komui paused and then frowned at him, as though disappointed that he didn’t _get_ it. “Because it’s not true Bak-chan, that’s why!”

“Exactly,” Bak said, taking the newspaper from Komui’s lap and folding it up into small squares. “What does it matter whether this thing says we’re 66 percent or 87 percent or even 32 percent compatible? It’s not true no matter which way you slice it.”

“But _Bak-chan_ …”

“Do you love me?” Bak asked him as he went about his task methodically.

“Of course I do!” Komui protested. “More than anything!” He took Bak’s hand in his own and pointed at it violently. “Look at this! Does that look like rock candy to you?”

“Don’t be cute,” Bak told him sharply. “Do you think I would have said yes if I wasn’t prepared to spend the rest of my life with you despite the fact that you drive me completely _mad_?”

“...No,” Komui murmured, his cheeks suffusing with heat. It wasn’t a soft, intimate declaration by any means, but it was Bak’s own way of saying ‘I love you too’ and it was enough to make his heart thud uncomfortably in his chest.

“Then it doesn’t matter,” Bak said strongly, “It doesn’t matter what anyone else thinks. We’ll make it work.”

He smoothed the last crease in the folded up newspaper down with his thumb and held up the finished square for Komui to see. The number 66 glared back at him.

“Besides,” Bak added wryly, a lopsided, dimpled smile spreading across his face as he flipped the square around so that the 66 turned into a 99.

“It’s all a matter of changing your perspective, you know? I always thought you were good at that.”

Komui’s glasses slipped a little down his nose. His lips curved upwards into a trembling grin.

“ _Bak-chan_.”

“Though to be fair the urge to strangle you in your sleep does exceed 1 percent sometimes,” Bak said thoughtfully, turning the little numbered square around to look at it. “But then again, who’s counting right?”

Komui kissed him, sending Bak sprawling into the soft couch cushions.

“You’re wonderful,” Komui told him breathlessly, pressing his lips to Bak’s cheek and trailing his mouth down the side of his neck. “I’m still going to ban that section from ever being published again in future editions because it made a mockery of our relationship, but you …” He kissed the bridge of Bak’s nose. “You’re _incredible_.”

“Well Reever was definitely on to something, I’ll give him that,” Bak muttered, shaking his head as he curled his fingers in Komui’s hair and tilted his head to give him an even deeper kiss.

He tugged at Komui’s bottom lip gently with his teeth. “Be honest. Did you ask me to marry you just to prove that compatibility test wrong?”

Komui gave him an unrepentant smile. “Well, yes and no,” he admitted. “I mean don’t get me wrong Bak-chan, it’s great being right, but who _wouldn’t_ want to marry you, you know?”

He nosed at Bak’s hand and kissed his ring finger fondly. “I’m glad you chose me.”

Bak flushed a deep shade of red and glanced away, half looking as though he were contemplating pulling one of the cushions over his face and screaming into it until Komui left him alone.

“...I’m glad you chose me too,” he replied, so quietly that Komui almost didn’t hear it.

Komui beamed and leaned back down into his space, and for a while they just lay there kissing and murmuring sweet nothings to each other while the fireplace crackled warmly in the background.

_BOOM_.

Bak put his hands on Komui’s shoulders and bodily shoved him away so fast that he nearly fell off the couch. His eyes were wide.

“ _Komui_ ,” he said threateningly as more loud pops and bursts filled the quiet night air.

Komui’s grin widened. “It’s starting!” he told Bak excitedly, grabbing his hand and pulling him upwards so he could look out the window.

And then Bak saw it. Huge bursts of colour lighting up the air above the treetops near the small town in the distance like sparkling flowers.

_Fireworks_.

His mouth fell open a little.

“Surprise!” Komui told him, his hands warm and steady on Bak’s shoulders, “It’s not much but I know you’ve always enjoyed fireworks, probably even more so when they’re not firing off a few inches from your face. Do you like them?” 

Bak scrunched up his nose a little in confusion. “They’re beautiful, Komui. Really. And I appreciate the gesture, but I don’t understand why …”

He trailed off when Komui pressed his nose against his hair and held him close.

“I know you don’t want to get married just yet, and I know that I have nothing to offer either you or your family when we do cross that bridge, but I will try to make you happy every day of my life and I hope … I hope that is enough.”

Bak touched his hand and squeezed his fingers tight. He was silent for a long moment.

“... Have you ever gone to that town?” he said at last, just when Komui feared that he wouldn’t speak at all.

“Huh?” Komui repeated, a little thrown off. It had not been the kind of answer he was expecting. “No, I … not personally, but I’ve heard from some of the Finders that have made day trips there on the weekends that it’s great. Good food, quaint little pubs, workshops full of artisans …”

“We should go there,” Bak declared shortly. “Mark it in your calendar. We can make a date of it.”

“Like a … _date_ -date? But I thought …”

“Well I can hardly marry a man that I’ve never even gone on a date with now can I?” Bak replied impatiently, turning his nose up a little.

Komui stared at him, then he rested his chin on the top of Bak’s head, sliding his arms around his waist and smiling when Bak rested his hands on top of his own, his eyes still fixed stubbornly on the fireworks.

“No,” Komui said warmly, “I suppose you can’t.” 

-

-

-

**END.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that’s a wrap! I can’t believe this actually broke through the 50K word limit but I had a lot of fun telling this story, even if I got stuck multiple times over the months writing it. 
> 
> Thank you, thank you to everyone who read this fic and commented on it in some way or another, and many thanks to [Andy](http://wasongo.tumblr.com) for doing this monster justice with his beautiful illustrations and especially for helping me brainstorm scenes and listening to me cry whenever I hit a wall. 
> 
> I hope you all have enjoyed this story and I look forward to writing more for this gross ship in the future!


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